ROSS  GRANT 
GOLD  HUNTER! 

JOHN     GAFLLAND 


AROUND    THE    BOULDER    CAME    THE    FIRST    HORSE 


ROSS    GRANT 
GOLD  HUNTER 

BY 

JOHN  GARLAND 


Author  of 
Ross  GRANT  TENDERFOOT 


Illustrated  by  R.  L.  BOYER 


THE    PENN    PUBLISHING 

COMPANY     PHILADELPHIA 

1916 


COPYRIGHT 
1916  BY 

THE  PENN 
PUBLISHING 
C  OMP ANY 


LOAN  STACK 


ROBS  Grant,  Gold  Hunter 


To 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  L.  Tewksbury 

whose  life  in  the  Wyoming  Mountains 
has  made  "Ross  Grant,  Gold  Hunter" 
possible,  I  cordially  dedicate  this  book 


966 


Introduction 

I  TAKE  it  for  granted  that  you  are  not  sorry  that 
"  Ross  Grant,  Tenderfoot,"  after  his  adventures 
over  in  Meadow  Creek  Valley  and  in  Wood  River 
Canon,  was  not  allowed  to  leave  the  mountains 
immediately,  but  was  drawn  into  a  mysterious 
entanglement  in  the  Valley  of  the  Pass,  which  led 
him  to  become  "  Ross  Grant,  Gold  Hunter."  I 
know,  furthermore,  that,  before  you  have  reached 
the  "  Monkey's  "  last  Indian  chant,  you  will  be 
glad — in  another  way — that  Sandy  McKenzie 
pushed  himself  into  this  same  entanglement  also, 
the  same  Sandy  who  learned  to  his  discomfort 
that  Ross  was  not  so  much  of  a  tenderfoot  as  he 
looked  to  be.  As  for  Lucky,  patient  old  Lucky, 
and  the  acrobatic  and  gay  "  Monkey,"  you  haven't 
seen  the  last  of  them  yet. 

Some  one,  who  never  climbed  a  hill  more  than 
a  thousand  feet  high  in  his  life,  informed  me  that 
too  much  is  said  in  this  story  about  eating.  I 
told  him — and  now  I'll  confess  to  you — that  not 
half  as  much  is  said  about  food  as  I  thought 
during  the  weeks  spent  among  these  lofty  peaks. 
As  I  recall  it,  all  the  time  I  was  not  eating  I  was 

5 


INTRODUCTION 

talking  and  thinking  about  it.  The  altitude  and 
life  in  the  open  gives  a  fellow  the  appetite  of  a 
bear  !  I  have  eaten  cold  corn  fritters  in  a  miners' 
boarding-house  and  found  them  more  appetizing 
than  porterhouse  steak  in  a  Broadway  hotel.  You 
might,  as  the  Toddler  would  put  it,  eat  till  you 
bust  one  hour  and  be  just  as  hungry  the  next. 
And,  furthermore,  for  two  reasons,  it's  not  the 
women  who  discuss  recipes,  but  the  men.  The 
first  reason  is,  there  are  not  enough  women  there 
to  do  much  discussing,  and  the  second  is  as  good — 
every  man  must  be  his  own  cook  or  starve.  There 
fore,  look  out  in  the  next  book  for  further  extensive 
references  to  "  rustling  grub  "  ! 

JOHN  GARLAND. 


Contents 

I.  AN  UNEXPECTED  SUMMONS  .        .         .        .11 

II.  AN  IMPORTANT  LETTER        ....  31 

III.  NICHOLAS  ARRIVES — AND  OTHERS         .         .  55 

IV.  A  "WILD  WEST"  SCOUT     ....  74 
V.  A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  LETTER          ...  96 

VI.  SCHEMES  AND  COUNTER  SCHEMES  .         .         .  121 

VII.  A  PUZZLING  SITUATION  ....  144 

VIII.  DISTURBING  NEWS  .....  165 

IX.  A  PLUNGE  INTO  THE  WILDERNESS  .  .  190 

X.  SURPRISES  FOR  BOY  AND  BEAR  .  .  .  206 

XI.  A  TRIUMPH  FOR  SANDY  ....  223 

XII.  THE  "HA'NT"  OF  THE  HORN  .  .  .  246 

XIII.  THE  MISSING  TREASURE       ....  266 

XIV.  ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  MCKENZIES      .         .  287 
XV.     THE  LETTER 310 

XVI.  "  CAPTAIN  HEAD-ON-YOU  "          .         .         .331 

XVII.  A  RACE  TO  THE  GOAL          ....  355 

XVIII.  Ross  PLAYS  AN  UNEXPECTED  PART        .        .  376 


Illustrations 

PAGE 

AROUND  THE  BOULDER  CAME  THE  FIRST  HORSE  Frontispiece 
MAP  OF  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  PASS  .  .  .  .41 
"I  DIDN'T  KNOW  You  WERE  HERE"  ...  69 
THE  MAN  HELD  THE  LETTER  .....  142 
THERE  WAS  No  MISTAKE  THIS  TIME  .  .  .  202 
HE  SUDDENLY  CLUTCHED  AT  THEM  .  .  .  .231 

HE  NAILED  IT  TO  THE  BARK. 272 

MAP  OF  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  FORKS  ....  305 
"  ALL  RIGHT  ;  THAT'S  FAIR  " 371 


Ross  Grant,  Gold  Hunter 


Ross  Grant,  Gold  Hunter 

CHAPTER  I 

AN   UNEXPECTED   SUMMONS 

Ross  GRANT,  respectfully  named  "  Doc  Tender 
foot  "  in  the  mountains  of  western  Wyoming,  up 
ended  a  large  trunk  and  a  smaller  chest  on  a  dry 
knoll  beside  the  stage  trail  in  Wood  River  Canon. 
Mounting  the  large  trunk,  he  sat  banging  his 
heels  against  the  side,  impatiently  awaiting  the 
coming  of  the  stage  to  Meeteetse. 

He  wore  a  gray  cap  and  a  gray  suit,  much  the 
worse,  not  for  wear,  but  for  an  eight  months' 
residence  in  the  large  trunk,  where  it  had  acquired 
a  multitude  of  creases.  The  ends  of  the  trouser 
legs  were  pushed  into  high  mountain  shoes.  At 
Cody  Ross  intended  to  change  for  low  shoes,  but 
as  eighty  strenuous  miles  of  bad  roads  lay  between 
Miners'  Camp  and  Cody,  he  preferred  to  travel 
them  in  the  heavy,  useful  foot-gear  he  had  worn 
in  the  mountains.  His  shirt,  originally  white, 
which  had  likewise  been  undisturbed  for  eight 
months,  was  yellow  and  mussed,  while  his  stiff 

ii 


ROSS    GRANT 

collar  was  decidedly  uncomfortable  after  he  had 
lived  so  long  in  a  flannel  shirt.  But  as  he  had 
turned  his  face  toward  Pennsylvania,  he  felt  that 
he  must  put  himself  again  into  the  garb  of  that 
remote  region. 

Presently  the  clatter  of  hoofs  sounded  far  up 
the  canon.  Ross  checked  his  whistle  to  ascertain 
the  number  of  hoofs  represented,  and  was  disap 
pointed  when  the  owner  of  only  four  appeared 
around  a  projecting  rock  and  bore  down  on  him 
at  a  gallop.  Seated  astride  the  saddleless  pony  on 
a  blanket  was  a  boy  of  fourteen  or  fifteen  clamp 
ing  the  pony's  sides  with  thin,  live-wire  legs. 
Thin,  live-wire  arms  were  waving  above  a  shock 
of  undipped,  tow-colored  hair,  while  the  bridle 
reins  were  knotted  on  the  pony's  neck.  The  rider 
was  fantastically  clad  in  a  red  shirt  and  soft  light 
weight  leather  trousers,  or  "  chaps,"  tanned  and 
ornamented  with  gayly  colored  beads  by  the 
Indians  on  the  Shoshone  reservation  south  of 
Miners'  Camp.  A  pair  of  elaborately  beaded  red 
moccasins  completed  this  highly  colored  outfit. 

Catching  sight  of  Ross,  the  newcomer  gave  vent 
to  a  Comanche  yell  of  exceeding  great  volume, 
and,  reaching  out  one  moccasin-clad  toe,  touched 
his  mount  just  in  front  of  its  foreleg.  The  animal 
bunched  its  hoofs  together  and  came  to  a  stop  with 
such  suddenness  that  an  ordinary  rider  would  have 

12 


GOLD    HUNTER 

been  pitched  over  its  head.  This  extraordinary 
rider,  however,  gave  a  leap  and  a  scramble  and 
stood  triumphantly  on  the  animal's  flank,  bowing 
low  to  the  older  boy  on  the  trunk. 

"  Hello,  Monkey ! "  greeted  Ross  with  a  grin. 
Every  one  grinned  when  the  "  Monkey,"  other 
wise  Nicholas  Page,  appeared. 

"  Hello,  yourself!  "  returned  the  Monkey,  drop 
ping  back  to  the  blanket  as  light  as  a  feather. 
Here  he  sat,  bunched  up,  his  knees  touching  his 
chin  and  his  arms  hugging  his  legs  as  comfortable 
as  though  his  seat  were  not  the  heaving  back  of  a 
spotted  pony. 

Ross  glanced  at  a  lean  gunny  sack  strapped 
across  the  pony  behind  him,  and  remarked, 
"  Thought  you  were  to  stay  on  up  the  canon  with 
the  men  who  are  working  Dad's  claim." 

Nicholas  shook  his  head  until  his  long  hair 
bobbed  about  madly  in  the  wind.  "  Take  another 
think  !  Dad  merely  told  me  I  had  better  stay  up 
here ! " 

"  Minding,  aren't  you  ?  "  offered  Ross. 

"Yep.  He  didn't  tell  me  right  out  to  stay. 
Merely  said  I'd  better.  Some  difference,  you  see. 
Now,  all  I  do  is  to  add  a  '  not '  to  that  and  down 
I  go  to  see  that  you  make  Cody  right  side  up  I  " 

The  word  "  down  "  referred  in  general  to  the 
extensive  valley  of  the  Big  Horn,  but  it  suggested 

13 


ROSS    GRANT 

to  the  boy  a  new  accomplishment  which  he  at 
once  exhibited.  Sitting  astride  the  pony,  he 
clamped  the  strapped  blanket  loosely  and  whirled 
over  until  he  hung  head  downward  beside  the 
pony,  his  hair  almost  touching  the  ground.  A 
moment  later  he  was  again  seated  on  the  pony's 
back,  his  knees  bunched  beneath  his  chin. 

"  What  d'ye  think  of  that  ?"  he  demanded. 

Ross  stared  in  amazed  approval.  "  It's  great, 
Nick.  I  can't  see  for  the  life  of  me  how  you  do 
so  many  stunts.  I  couldn't  if  I  worked  until 
Doomsday." 

He  looked  down  half  apologetically  at  his  heavy 
frame  and  large  limbs.  Ross  was  as  slow  in  mo 
tion  as  the  other  was  quick.  He  suggested  strength 
and  solidity  in  every  line,  while  Nicholas  had 
earned  his  nickname  by  his  speed,  dexterity  of 
movement,  and  lightness  of  poise. 

"  Well,  I  have  to  work  to  do  'em !  "  affirmed 
Monkey  candidly.  "  Work  like  the  dickens ! 
What  I  did  just  now  is  no  cinch,  but  I'm  goin'  to 
go  that  one  better.  I'm  going  to  get  so  I  can  fire 
under  Spot  while  I'm  hangin'  there  head  down, 
and  hit  a  dime  at  ten  paces  away  with  every  shot. 
Buffalo  Bill  says  he'll  take  me  into  the  Wild  West 
Show  when  I  can  do  that.  I  saw  him  the  last  time 
he  was  in  Cody.  I  rode  for  him  and  shot  for  him 
and  he  shook  hands  on  takin'  me  some  time — 

14 


GOLD    HUNTER 

when  Dad's  willing,"  the  last  was  added  with  a 
thoughtfulness  unusual  to  Nicholas. 

"  What  does  your  father  say  to  your  training  for 
the  show  ?  "  asked  Ross.  He  regarded  Nicholas  with 
little  less  than  awe  in  view  of  the  attention  given 
his  acrobatic  performances  by  Colonel  Cody,  known 
outside  his  native  state  of  Wyoming  as  Buffalo  Bill. 

Nicholas  grimaced.  "  He  doesn't  say  one  word 
against  my  training !  Thinks  that's  good  for  me. 
But  he  won't  say  that  I  can  ever  join  the  show. 
And  he  won't  say  I  can't.  Dad's  queer  in  some 
ways.  He  could  make  a  dandy  living  if  his  wages 
depended  on  his  sayin'  nothing.  He  can  keep 
still  the  longest  of  any  man  I  know.  He  lets 
me  do  most  of  the  talkin' !  " 

The  boys  grinned  at  each  other,  and  Nicholas, 
dropping  his  feet  beside  the  pony,  threw  one  leg 
over  the  other,  his  hands  clasping  the  knee  while  he 
rocked  back  and  forth  in  leisurely  fashion. 

"  But  I  notice,"  he  continued  frankly,  "  that 
when  it  comes  to  acting,  Dad's  all  there  and  then 
some  !  When  September  comes  and  he  tells  me  to 
pack  my  trunk  and  trot  down  to  school  in  Omaha, 
I  notice  that  little  Nicholas  Scott  Page  packs  and 
trots  !  And  if  he  had  told  me  to  come  up  to  camp 
and  stay  here  until  he  got  back,  I'd  not  be  escort 
ing  you  down.  See?"  The  boy  spoke  with  un 
bounded  pride  in  Dad's  powers  to  command. 

15 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Shouldn't  wonder,  though,  if  it  would  be  quite 
a  spell  before  he  gets  back.  When  he  finishes 
roundin'  up  the  cattle  thieves,  I  shouldn't  be  sur 
prised  if  he'd  go  scoutin'  on  Fred  Holzworth's  lost 
trail." 

"  Who's  Fred  Holzworth  ?  " 

Nicholas  swung  his  feet  violently.  "  He's  the 
last  maverick  that  stung  Dad,"  was  his  succinct 
reply.  "  Dad  grub-staked  him  or  lent  him  money 
or  something,  and  he  up  and  died  a  month  ago 
while  Dad  was  in  Omaha.  So  Dad  has  lost  his 
grub-stake,  I  suppose,  as  I've  never  heard  of  Fred's 
being  worth  a  plunk  I  It's  a  good  thing,  maybe," 
philosophically,  "  for  if  Fred  had  staked  any  more 
claims  for  Dad  to  pay  for  developing,  I  guess  it 
would  be  'over  the  hills  to  the  poorhouse'  for 
yours  truly  I  Now  right  up  here  in  Miners'  " — 
the  boy  pointed  up  the  canon — "  he  has  two  men 
developing  two  claims.  They  get  two  plunks  per 
day  and  grub,  and  the  ore  they're  getting  shows 
only  a  trace  of  gold.  Doc,"  abruptly,  "  are  you 
quartz  crazy  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not,"  declared  Ross  emphatically.  "  I 
think  I  should  be  plain  crazy  though  if  I  were 
obliged  to  spend  my  life  in  these  mountains 
hunting  for  gold.  I'd  rather  doctor  folks." 

"  Well,  it's  queer  you  haven't  caught  the  mining 
disease.  Bet  you'll  find  the  microbe  has  got  you 

16 


GOLD    HUNTER 

when  you  go  back  East !  "  triumphantly.  "  Now, 
there's  Dad.  You  know  he  owns  a  ranch,  the  Lazy 
Y,  down  in  the  valley  ?  " 

Ross  nodded. 

"  Well,  Dad  is  as  quartz  crazy  as  the  rest  of  'em 
around  Wyoming.  Seems  as  if  you  can't  stay  in 
Wyoming  and  not  be.  But  Dad,  he  knows  better 
than  to  give  up  his  time  to  prospecting  himself. 
He's  sharp  enough  to  hold  down  his  job  of  ranch 
ing  and  being  deputy  sheriff,  jobs  that  bring  in  the 
plunks.  Then,  with  the  money,  he  grub-stakes  fel 
lows  like  Fred  Holzworth,  that  you  couldn't  keep 
away  from  the  mountains  unless  you  put  dynamite 
under  'em.  These  chaps  go  nosing  around  and 
stake  out  claims,  and  then  Dad  planks  down  more 
dollars  and  has  the  claims  developed,  as  he's  doing 
up  here.  He  hires  one  man  and  puts  him  to  work 
against  the  work  of  the  fellow  who  has  staked  the 
claims.  See?" 

"  And  what  does  it  all  amount  to  ?  "  asked  Ross 
skeptically.  "  There's  gold  and  silver  all  through 
these  mountains,  and  yet  the  ore  isn't  rich  enough 
to  pay  for  transportation  to  a  smelter  ;  and  because 
it  isn't  rich  enough  no  one  builds  a  smelter  here, 
and  the  Burlington  Railroad  keeps  talking  about 
running  the  road  on  up  here  from  Cody  and  yet 
doesn't  begin  the  actual  building — waiting — every 
thing  is  waiting  for  something  to  be  turned  up, 

17 


ROSS    GRANT 

and  here  are  hundreds  of  men  wasting  their  lives 
trying  to  turn  up  something  big." 

"But  who  knows,"  interrupted  Nicholas,  "that 
the  next  shot  some  one  puts  in  his  development 
work  may  not  unearth  a  pocket  of  free  gold  ?  If 
some  prospector  could  strike  a  vein  of  free  gold — 
that  would  be  big  enough  to  start  things  going — 
either  a  smelter  or  the  branch  road." 

"  Well,"  returned  Ross  in  a  discouraged  tone,  "  I 
hear  there  have  been  mighty  few  free  gold  pockets 
unearthed  in  these  mountains,  and  yet  the  digging 
goes  on  everywhere  here  in  the  Shoshones,  and 
over  on  the  Big  Horn  Range." 

"  Yes,  Dad  talks  as  low  spiritedly  as  you  do," 
laughed  the  Monkey,  "  and  yet  he  can't  keep  from 
grub-staking  fellows  and  taking  his  chances.  The 
love  of  gold  hunting  seeps  into  the  blood,  Doc. 
It'll  get  you  yet !  " 

Ross  shrugged  superior  shoulders.  "  I  guess  not. 
It  hasn't  got  me  yet,  and  I've  started  back  home — 
no  more  of  these  cold  old  mountains  for  me.  I've 
started  for  a  state  where  June  20th  brings  summer 
instead  of  early  spring,  and  where  green  peas  are 
growing  in  the  garden  now  instead  of  in  tin  cans ! 
It's  old  '  Pennsy '  for  me  hereafter." 

He  looked  about,  as  he  spoke,  at  the  curious  mix 
ture  of  summer  and  winter,  due  to  a  conflict  be 
tween  the  lofty  altitude  and  the  hot  sunshine. 

18 


GOLD    HUNTER 

The  peaks  were  yet  deep  with  snow.  There  were 
snow  banks  on  the  sides  of  Gale's  Ridge  under  the 
shoulder  of  the  spruce  trees,  with  wild  flowers 
blooming  a  few  feet  away.  Wood  River,  a  narrow 
stream,  foamed  and  rushed  through  the  canon 
with  a  velocity  and  depth  of  an  eastern  spring 
freshet,  fed  by  the  melting  snow.  The  sun  shone 
hotly  in  Ross's  face  while  a  sharp,  snow-cooled 
wind  chilled  his  back. 

Nicholas  hunched  up  his  knees  again  and  hugged 
them,  rocking  back  and  forth  on  his  pony's  back. 
"  Wyoming  is  good  enough  for  me,"  he  declared. 
"  Dad  says  that  what  he  wants  is  a  horse  and  a  gun 
and  plenty  of  room,  and  so  do  I.  A  horse  and  a 
gun  and  plenty  of  room,"  the  boy  chanted. 

With  one  of  his  quick  movements  he  lay  along 
the  pony's  back,  his  arms  about  its  neck  and  his 
softly  shod  feet  caressing  its  flank. 

"  Wish  I  could  get  rid  of  school  and  Omaha," 
he  mumbled,  "  but  Dad  says  he's  an  ignorant 
maverick,  and  I  shan't  be.  He  won't  let  me  talk 
as  he  does.  He  says  I've  got  to  use  good  English 
and  be  wise  to  Latin  even.  Oh,  shucks  !  What 
do  I  want  with  '  Amo,  Amas,  Amat '  ?  I  can  say 
it  all  to  old  Spot  in  plain  United  States  better, 
can't  I,  Spot  ?"  slapping  the  pony's  neck.  "  Dad 
doesn't  seem  to  think  that  digging  out  Latin  is 
harder  work  than  digging  out  gold  !  " 

19 


ROSS    GRANT 

Ross  had  never  seen  "  Dad,"  as  every  one  called 
him,  but  for  two  weeks  Nicholas  had  haunted  his 
vicinity,  lost  in  an  admiration  of  Ross's  skill  with 
the  contents  of  the  medicine  chest  and  with  his 
knowledge  of  the  human  joints  and  hinges  which 
the  Monkey  could  manipulate  so  handily.  Ross, 
on  the  other  hand,  regarded  the.  younger  boy's 
physical  accomplishments  with  no  less  a  degree  of 
admiration. 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence  save  for  the 
sough  of  the  wind  through  the  pines  and  spruces 
that  hid  the  wagon  trail  and  filled  the  canon  and 
covered  the  mountainsides  up  to  "  timber  line." 
Then  Nicholas,  who  disliked  both  silence  and  in 
action,  shot  out  his  feet,  crossed  them  on  the  neck 
of  the  pony  and  lay  back,  his  head  on  the  lean 
gunny  sack  containing  the  few  necessities  in  the 
toilet  line  which  he  was  bearing  with  him  into 
that  vast  region  referred  to  as  "  below." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  clatter  of  wheels 
and  hoofs  and  the  jingle  of  trace  chains,  succeeded 
by  Bill  Travers'  raucous  voice : 

"  Hike  out  o'  this,  kittens  !    Air  yer  heels  !    Git ! " 

Nicholas  turned  his  pony  out  of  the  track  as 
Bill's  four  bronchos  and  the  big-wheeled  stage  bore 
down  on  him  with  Bill  whirling  a  long  "  black- 
snake  "  from  a  seat  high  over  the  tails  of  the 
"  wheelers."  Three  times  a  week  Bill  made  the 

20 


GOLD   HUNTER 

forty  mile  run  with  the  mail  from  Meeteetse  to 
Miners'  Camp,  and  "  run  "  it  really  was  for  the 
four  "  kittens  "  with  their  nimble  heels. 

"  Stage's  late ! "  yelled  Bill,  drawing  in  his 
bronchos  beside  the  trunks.  "  Hi,  there,  Monkey, 
get  down  and  make  yerself  useful." 

With  one  bound  the  boy  was  on  the  ground  and 
with  another  he  lit  on  top  of  the  large  trunk  just 
as  Bill  and  Ross  were  lifting  it.  His  weight, 
lightly  poised,  scarcely  added  to  the  burden. 

"  Gee  whittikers !  "  shouted  Bill  as  Nicholas  left 
the  trunk  midway  in  its  progress  to  the  stage, 
turned  a  somersault  in  the  air,  landed  on  his  feet 
on  the  ground  one  moment  and  was  standing  on 
the  flank  of  his  pony  the  next.  "  Bless  my  boots 
and  pistols !  I  never  seed  anything  like  you, 
Monkey,  in  all  my  born  days  !  I  knew  you  was 
as  thin  as  a  crutch,  but  I  didn't  know  before  you 
was  no  heftier  'n  air.  If  ye  ain't  a  hull  circus  I 
loses  !  " 

In  a  few  moments  the  entire  outfit  was  under 
headway.  Bill  Travers,  with  one  foot  on  the 
brake,  gave  his  bronchos  his  undivided  attention, 
despite  his  overwhelming  desire  to  talk.  The 
Monkey  followed  "on  the  spotted  pony.  Ross  sat 
beside  Bill  staring  down  the  canon,  his  face  turned 
literally  and  figuratively  toward  Pennsylvania. 

Rapidly  the  stage  swung  down  the  winding, 

21 


ROSS    GRANT 

narrow  canon — always  down  now,  for  Miners' 
Camp  was  two  miles  above  sea  level.  Sometimes 
the  "  kittens "  ploughed  through  snow-drifts ; 
again  they  galloped  across  bridges  of  slender, 
yielding  saplings  spanning  the  deep,  ice-choked 
stream ;  at  times  the  peaks  on  either  hand  left  so 
narrow  a  sky  canon  between  that  the  trail  at  mid 
day  was  deep  in  gloom.  But  gradually  the 
mountains  were  left  behind.  The  canon  widened. 
The  air  grew  warmer  and  less  rare.  Flowers  ap 
peared  more  profusely  beside  the  track,  yellow 
asters,  bluebells,  daisies.  The  snow  disappeared 
and  the  travelers  were  among  the  black,  barren 
foot-hills  below  the  Shoshones. 

Not  until  they  were  approaching  the  first  ford 
in  Wood  River  did  Bill  Travers  divorce  his  atten 
tion  from  the  bronchos  and  bestow  it  on  his  pas 
senger.  Carefully  he  surveyed  this  boy  with  his 
wind-reddened,  earnest  face,  honest  eyes,  and  slow, 
rather  awkward  movements. 

"  Doc,  how  deep  has  Wyomin'  branded  ye  these 
eight  months  ?  Sorry  ye're  hittin'  the  hike  back 
East,  ain't  ye  ?  " 

Ross  grinned  cheerfully.  "  Wyoming  is  all 
right,  Bill,  but  I  guess  Pennsylvania  branded  me 
pretty  deep  before  you  folks  got  hold  of  me." 

"  Goin'  back  int'  school  now,  I  hear,"  Bill  con 
tinued  genially, "  to  larn  more  about  folks'  insides, 

22 


GOLD    HUNTER 

and  how  t'  cut  'em  up  and  help  'em  pass  in  their 
checks  easy  like,  eh? " 

The  embryo  physician  nodded,  his  eyes  lighting 
as  they  always  did  whenever  reference  was  made 
to  his  chosen  career.  "  But  a  doctor's  ambition 
is  to  keep  them  from  passing  in  their  checks ! 
That's  what  I'm  going  to  try  to  learn  to  do." 

Bill  winked,  spat  skilfully  past  the  flank  of  the 
nigh  wheeler,  and  gave  the  lagging  ponies  his  un 
welcome  attention  again.  "  Yep,  s'pose  'tis  ;  and 
you've  made  a  fair  beginnin'  at  it  hereabouts  even 
if  you  hain't  got  no  paper  framed  yet  and  hung  on 
the  wall,  and  sich.  Guess  ye've  aimed  the  right 
to  the  '  Doc  '  part." 

The  boy  made  no  immediate  reply,  but  glanced 
back  of  the  seat  at  the  strong,  old-fashioned,  hair- 
covered  chest  in  which  were  numerous  medical 
"  first  aids  "  designed  for  his  use  in  case  of  acci 
dent  or  sickness,  and  which  he  had  had  occasion 
to  use,  not  for  himself,  but  for  others.  Hence,  his 
title  gratefully  bestowed. 

"  I  guess  you  know,"  he  said  finally,  perceiving 
that  Bill  expected  information,  "  that  I've  lived 
for  years  with  an  uncle  who's  a  country  doctor 
among  the  Pennsylvania  coal  mines.  I've  always 
been  tremendously  interested  in  all  that  sort  of 
thing,"  indicating  the  chest;  "and  I've  helped 
him  a  lot  with  accidents  and  gone  with  him  to 

23 


ROSS    GRANT 

visit  poor  patients  and  kept  track  of  his  cases 
with  him.  And  then  I've  read  medical  books 
ever  since  I  was  old  enough  to  understand  'em." 

Bill's  interest  at  this  point  was  distracted  from 
the  subject  of  medicine  by  the  untoward  antics  of 
his  four-in-hand.  They  were  sliding  down  the 
steep  bank  of  the  river  and  registering  their  ob 
jections  to  the  process  with  teeth  and  hoofs. 
Whirling  his  "  blacksnake  "  above  the  flanks  of 
his  unambitious  leaders,  Bill  urged  the  bronchos 
across  the  ford.  The  swift  cold  water  swirled  and 
eddied  about  the  stage,  causing  the  passenger  to 
draw  up  his  feet  apprehensively  as  the  current 
struck  the  body  of  the  vehicle. 

"Hi,  ye  mavericks!"  shouted  Bill.  "What 
d'ye  mean  mosey  in'  round  this  way  ?  Take 
what's  comin'  to  ye,  and  hit  th'  high  trail !  " 

The  four,  dripping,  struggled  up  the  opposite 
bank,  and  swung  the  heavy,  creaking  stage  along 
a  devious  track  which  skirted  the  fertile  valley 
of  Wood  River  on  one  hand  and  on  the  other  the 
foot-hills  pierced  with  gopher  holes  and  overgrown 
with  sage-brush. 

Bill's  blacksnake  was  whirling  again  to  the  ac 
companiment  of  a  wild  clanking  of  trace  chains 
and  clatter  of  hoofs  on  the  stones  of  the  rough 
track,  when  far  behind  sounded  a  loud  shout, 
"  B-i-1-1  Travers !  B-i-1-1 !  Ho-ye-ho  !  " 

24 


GOLD   HUNTER 

The  stage  driver  drew  in  his  bronchos,  and, 
standing  up,  faced  the  back  trail.  His  passenger 
did  likewise.  Nicholas,  close  behind,  drew  in  the 
spotted  pony,  and,  leaping  nimbly  upright  on  its 
flank,  shaded  his  eyes  with  both  hands  and  let 
out  so  weird  a  shriek  that  the  stage  horses  were 
startled.  Following  them  in  the  clear  distance 
came  a  man  on  horseback.  Standing  in  his  stir 
rups,  he  waved  his  hand  until  the  Monkey's  an 
swering  call  reached  him.  Then,  dropping  into 
his  saddle,  he  bent  his  shoulders  forward,  and  was 
lost  to  view  behind  a  hill. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  asked  Ross.  During  his  brief 
residence  in  Wyoming  he  had  learned  that  one 
hundred  miles  of  mountain  and  valley  do  not 
separate  men  so  widely  as  five  miles  of  Pennsyl 
vania  soil. 

Bill  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hands.  "  Looks 
like — yes,  'tis ! "  in  a  tone  of  conviction  as  the 
horseman  rounded  the  hill  at  a  gallop.  "  It's 
Lucky  Frace — and — what's  he  leadin'  the  Tod 
dler's  hoss  fer  now,  I  wonder.  And  fer  what  is 
he  a-holdin'  of  us  up  in  this  way  ?  " 

The  rider  was  a  tall  man  of  powerful  frame  and 
bearded  face.  He  wore  leather  chaps,  a  sombrero, 
and  a  corduroy  coat.  At  the  end  of  a  leading  rope 
attached  to  his  pommel  was  a  saddled  horse. 

"  How  d'ye? "  was  his  brief  greeting  as  he  rode 

25 


ROSS    GRANT 

alongside  the  stage.  He  spoke  to  Bill,  but  his  eyes 
ranged  over  the  Monkey,  whom  he  regarded  with 
a  smile,  and  came  to  rest  seriously  on  Ross.  They 
were  kind  eyes,  deep-set  and  gray. 

"  What  are  ye  mussin'  up  the  landscape  fer, 
Lucky  ?  "  asked  Bill  affably. 

The  stranger  spoke  abruptly.  "  There's  trouble 
up  to  th'  Pass.  A  man  rode  up  yesterday  all  in. 
He  fell  ofPn  his  hoss  in  front  of  Trigger's  shack, 
and  smashed  his  spectacles,  and  laid  his  cheek 
open  across  here,"  indicating  his  cheek-bone. 
"  Then  he  up  and  had  a  fever,  and  turned  sort 
o'  luny.  We  can't  do  no  better'n  bind  a  hand 
kerchief  over  his  face.  He  needs  t'  be  looked  out 
fer ;  so  I  hiked  it  over  t'  Miners'  this  morning 
after  " — here  he  paused,  his  deep-set  eyes  again 
searching  Ross's  face — "  after  a — Doc  Tenderfoot. 
Heard  about  'im  in  Meeteetse  before  I  went  up  on 
South  Fork  this  spring.  Heard  he  knew  as  much 
as  some  hull  bunches  of  regular  doctors." 

"  He's  it !  "  announced  Bill  succinctly,  jerking  a 
thumb  in  Ross's  direction. 

Ross  rested  one  knee  on  the  seat,  and  leaned 
against  his  trunk  up-ended  in  the  back  of  the 
stage.  "  I'm  Ross  Grant/'  he  stammered  diffi 
dently.  "  They  call  me  '  Doc '  up  in  camp, 
but " 

The  man  interrupted.  "  They  told  me  up  there," 

26 


GOLD    HUNTER 

he  said  slowly,  "  that  you  was  hittin'  the  trail  with 
bag  and  baggage  for  back  East.  But  still  I  come 
along — and  brought  Tod's  horse " 

His  mouth,  which  was  large,  closed  on  the  sub 
ject  unexpectedly,  and  seemingly  with  finality. 
His  tongue  asked  nothing  more,  but  his  kind  eyes 
put  a  question  as  they  met  Ross's  squarely. 

The  boy  understood,  and  the  understanding 
brought  only  dismay.  His  gaze  wavered  and  fell 
before  the  stranger's.  He  looked  back  at  the 
mountains,  huge  and  black  and  frowning  as  they 
topped  the  foot-hills  and  soared  far  up  into  the 
vivid  blue  of  the  June  sky.  He  had  been  sent 
among  those  peaks  by  his  father  to  do  the  work 
on  some  mining  property,  work  that  had  been  fin 
ished  in  a  most  amazing  way.  His  father  and 
uncle,  business  man  and  physician,  had  come  on 
to  Miners'  Camp  to  look  him  up  after  months  of 
necessary  silence  on  his  part.  They  had  returned 
East  after  lingering  but  a  few  days  in  Camp,  ex 
pecting  him  to  follow  in  a  couple  of  weeks.  The 
fortnight  had  been  spent  at  the  lower  mine  in 
Miners1  Camp,  the  Gale's  Ridge,  and  when  Ross 
had  dragged  his  trunk  down  the  precipitous  side 
of  the  Ridge  that  morning  he  supposed  he  was 
saying  good-bye  to  the  Shoshone  Mountains.  He 
had  expected  to  divide  the  ensuing  three  months 
between  the  home  of  Dr.  Grant  near  Wilkesbarre 

27 


ROSS    GRANT 

and  of  his  father  and  stepmother  in  New  York. 
Then  in  September  he  intended  to  enter  the 
medical  department  of  the  University  of  Pennsyl 
vania. 

And  now He  opened  his  lips  to  refuse  the 

request  in  the  stranger's  eyes,  and  then  closed  them 
on  the  refusal.  He  recalled  his  uncle,  worn  and 
bent  in  the  service  of  others,  battling  against 
storms,  dragging  through  mud,  ploughing  through 
snow-drifts,  and  all  done  cheerfully  to  relieve 
suffering.  He  recalled  the  other's  oft-repeated 
warning : 

"  Ross,  if  ever  you  allow  the  idea  of  personal 
ease  or  preference  to  come  between  you  and  duty, 
you're  not  fit  to  become  a  doctor.  Better  choose  a 
less  responsible  profession." 

Ross  stood  up.  "  I'll  go  with  you,"  he  said  in  a 
low  tone,  "  and  do  what  I  can." 

The  man's  face  lighted.  "  I  thought  ye  would," 
was  all  the  reply  he  made  ;  but  Ross's  heart  warmed 
at  the  quiet  confidence  in  the  tone. 

Instantly  the  Monkey  pricked  up  a  pair  of  small, 
well-formed  ears.  "  Hey  !  "  he  called  gayly  whirl 
ing  his  pony  about  like  a  top.  "  I'm  goin'  too. 
Where  Doc  goes  I  go.  Dad's  deserted,  and  I  might 
as  well  be  at  the  Valley  of  the  Pass  as  anywhere 
else ! " 

Lucky  Frace  smoothed  his  horse's  mane  and 

28 


GOLD    HUNTER 

looked  at  the  thin,  whirling  Dervish  with  per 
plexed  eyes.  "  Where's  Dad  ?  "  he  asked  absently. 

"  If  I  could  tell  I  would,"  chanted  the  whirling 
Dervish,  "  but  what  I  don't  know  I  can't  tell.  He 
hiked  out  and  took  both  guns  with  'im  !  He  won't 
let  me  carry  a  gun  yet  unless  he's  around.  Says 
he  wants  to  be  handy  to  pick  up  the  pieces  when  I 
shoot  myself!  But  I'd  like  to  see  him  shoot  as 
fast  and  straight  as  I  can,  and  from  the  hip,  too — 
but  until  I'm  eighteen,  he  says  he  won't  trust  me 
with  a  gun  of  my  own.  And " 

"  Fer  the  sake  of  the  nation,  Monkey,  rope  that 
tongue  of  yourn  and  throw  it  a  minute,"  interrupted 
Bill  Travers,  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  face. 
"  I've  had  a  question  hangin'  onto  my  tongue  fer 
half  an  hour  more  'r  less  !  "  He  turned  to  Lucky. 
"  Say  !  Who  is  it  that's  ailin'  up  t'  th'  Pass?  " 

Lucky  brushed  a  little  foam  from  his  horse's 
shoulder.  "  He's  a  young  man  and  new  to  these 
parts.  Hain't  none  of  us  seen  'im  before,  and  he 
hain't  spoke  his  name." 

"  Huh  !  "  exclaimed  Bill.  "  Must  be  a  soci'ble 
party  !  Ye  must  like  his  com'ny." 

Lucky  made  no  reply.  His  forehead  was  deeply 
lined  in  thought.  He  backed  his  horse  out  of  the 
way,  while  the  stage  driver  assisted  Ross  in  mak 
ing  sundry  transfers  from  the  trunk  to  the  chest. 
Then  as  Bill  was  mounting  the  high  front  seat 

29 


ROSS    GRANT 

again,  leaving  Ross  and  the  chest  on  the  trail, 
Lucky  spoke  again.  He  bent  forward  smoothing 
his  horse's  mane  and  endeavoring  to  make  his 
voice  as  careless  as  his  actions.  But  through  the 
simple  question  that  he  asked  ran  a  deep  vein  of 
anxiety  ! 

"  What's  become  of  Sandy  McKenzie  ?  " 

"  He  and  his  brother  left  Miners'  Camp  about 
five  weeks  ago,"  volunteered  Ross. 

"  Heard  they  was  in  Cody  outfittin1  fer  the  Big 
Horn.  Goin'  prospectin',"  Bill  gave  information. 

Lucky  threw  his  bridle  reins  over  his  pony's 
neck  and  leaned  from  his  saddle  to  receive  the 
medicine  chest.  He  made  no  comment.  Balancing 
the  chest  across  the  pommel  of  his  saddle  he  gath 
ered  up  the  reins,  while  Bill  released  the  brake  on 
the  stage. 

"  Hi  I "  chanted  Nicholas  Page,  whirling  the 
spotted  pony  about  beside  Lucky.  "  It's  me  for 
the  Valley  of  the  Pass  I  Where  Doc  goes  I  go  I 
Where  Doc  goes  I  go  I  " 

Lucky  turned  quickly  in  the  saddle  and  looked 
at  the  Monkey.  For  a  moment  he  was  silent. 
Then  he  spoke  slowly  and  decisively : 

"  We  hain't  got  either  quarters  nor  grub  fer  ye, 
Nick,  up  t'  the  Pass,  with  the  sick  feller  and  Doc 
there — say  !  Ye  jest  keep  on  headin'  along  to  the 
Lazy  Y." 

30 


CHAPTER  II 

AN    IMPORTANT    LETTER 

To  shut  off  further  argument  from  the  disap 
pointed  Monkey,  Lucky,  balancing  the  chest  before 
him,  rode  slowly  back,  leaving  Ross  hastily  writing 
a  postal  card  which  he  had  taken  from  his  trunk. 

"  Folks  home  are  expecting  me  right  away,"  he 
explained,  "  and  this  is  to  tell  'em  to  stop  expecting 
for  a  few  days." 

The  postal  finished  and  in  Bill's  hands,  Ross 
gathered  in  the  leading  rope  dangling  from  the 
neck  of  "  Tod's  "  horse,  knotted  it  to  the  pommel, 
and  swung  himself  clumsily  into  the  saddle. 

"  Mail  that  card  and  dump  my  trunk  into  the 
freight  room  at  Cody,  will  you,  Bill  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  and  tell  the  agent  I'll  be  along  in  a  few  days." 

Nicholas,  standing  on  his  horse's  flank,  waved  a 
derisive  hand  after  the  retreating  Lucky.  "  Ha, 
ha  1 "  laughed  the  boy.  "  Thinks  he  can  keep  me 
away  from  the  Valley  of  the  Pass,  does  he  ?  No 
grub  to  spare,  no  bunk  to  spare  ;  but  there's  plenty 
of  outdoors  up  there,  and  at  the  Lazy  Y  there's 
both  grub  and  a  sleeping-bag  to  pack  with  me !  " 


ROSS    GRANT 

With  this  ambiguous  remark  the  boy  dropped 
to  his  blanket,  hit  the  pony's  sides  with  both  heels 
and  shot  down  the  trail,  calling  back  to  Ross, 
"  See  ye  later,  but  not  much  later  !  " 

"  If  he  ain't  a  monkey,"  exclaimed  the  stage 
driver  as  his  four  started,  "  then  there  never  was 
one  and  there  never  was  a  circus  ner  a  Wild  West 
Show ! " 

Ten  minutes  later  Ross  overtook  Lucky  on  the 
bank  of  the  river  and  followed  him  across  the 
ford.  As  the  horses  were  shaking  themselves  on 
the  other  side,  he  looked  attentively  at  the  boy : 

"  I  take  it  in  good  part,  Doc,  yer  goin'  with  me. 
Fred  Holzworth  done  me  more'n  one  good  turn 
afore  he  died,  and  I  wouldn't  leave  his  brother  t1 
suffer  without  gittin'  help  !  " 

"  Fred  Holzworth  !  Brother  !  "  echoed  Ross  in 
astonishment.  "  Then  you  know  who  he  is?  I 
thought  you  said  back  at  the  ford  you  didn't " 

Lucky  interrupted  firmly.  "  I  never  said  I 
didn't  know  who  he  is.  Ye  think  back  t'  what  I 
did  say.  We  don't  savvy  his  lingo  just  as  I  said, 
not  one  word  of  it,  but  he's  got  Fred's  face  and 
Fred's  actions,  and  I  know  Fred  had  a  brother 
that  he  was  expectin'  here  and  so  of  course  I  know 
this  is  him." 

Ross  looked  curiously  at  the  other.  What  ob 
ject  had  he  in  concealing  the  injured  man's  iden- 

32 


GOLD   HUNTER 

tity — and  where  had  he,  Ross,  heard  the  name  of 
Fred  Holzworth  before  ? 

Lucky  partially  answered  these  unasked  ques 
tions.  He  spoke  abruptly :  "  I  didn't  tell  all  I 
knew  back  there  because  I  see  that,  somehow, 
Hans  had  got  from  Cody  up  t'  the  Pass  without 
Bill  Travers  findin'  out  about  4m.  And  as  the 
Monkey  said,  what  a  body  don't  know  he  can't 
tell  1 " 

"  But  why  shouldn't  it  be  told  ?  "  asked  Ross 
bluntly. 

Lucky  made  no  reply  to  this.  He  spoke  as 
though  he  had  not  heard.  "  As  I  told  ye,  Fred 
done  me  more'n  one  good  turn  before  he  died,  and 

I'm  goin'  to  see  Hans  through  with  this "  he 

checked  himself,  and  then  reiterated  :  "  I  take  it 
well  ye're  comin'  with  me,  fer  doctors  in  Wyomin1 
is  as  scarce  as  railroads — and  free  gold  !  " 

The  nearest  physician  was,  like  the  nearest  rail 
road,  at  Cody,  Buffalo  Bill's  native  town,  eighty 
miles  away. 

Ross  mumbled  an  assent  and  followed  thought 
fully.  "  Free  gold  !  "  How  often  he  had  heard 
the  term.  In  front  of  him  rode,  probably,  another 
"  quartz  crazy  "  prospector  who  was  giving  the 
best  years  of  his  life  to  this  endless  search  for  gold 
among  the  cold,  desolate,  barren  peaks  of  the 
Rockies. 

33 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  these  mountains  ?  " 
the  boy  asked  at  length. 

Lucky  straightened  in  the  saddle  and  half 
turned,  one  hand  on  his  horse's  flank.  "  This 
makes  my  fifth  summer  up  t'  the  Pass,"  he  said 
slowly.  "  But  if  you  mean  t'  be  askin'  how  long 
I've  been  prospectin',  why,  as  man  and  boy,  I've 
been  at  it  twenty-five  year,  here  and  over  in  the 
Big  Horn,  and  down  in  Colorado  and  up  in  Mon 
tana  and  over  in  Californy." 

"  Have  you  " — here  Ross  hesitated  knowing 
that  personal  questions  are  not  popular  in  the 
mountains — "  have  you  ever — found  anything?" 

Lucky  rubbed  the  horse's  flank.  "  Off  and  on," 
he  admitted  slowly,  "  but  mostly  off!  "  with  a  rue 
ful  laugh.  "  I  panned  some  rich  dirt  up  in  Butte 
first  off.  That  begun  it.  I  was  on  a  ranch  afore 
that,  doin'  well  as  to  wages — hoss  wrangler,  I  was. 
Then  I  got  the  gold  fever  and  went  to  Butte. 
Since  then — wall,  I'm  here  now,"  succinctly,  "  and 
I'm  free  t'  say  that  the  Pass  ain't  a  payin'  proposi 
tion  unless  the  Burlington  gits  its  road  up  t' 
Miners'  before  long,  or  else  that  Chicago  company 
builds  a  smelter  there.  But  the  smelter  ain't 
comin'  ner  the  road  unless  some  of  us  run  onto  a 
rich  find, — free  gold,  maybe." 

"  Free  gold,"  as  Ross  knew,  was  applied  to 
quartz  containing  flakes  and  specks  and  nuggets 

34 


GOLD    HUNTER 

of  the  yellow  metal  visible  to  the  naked  eye. 
There  had  been  pockets  of  such  ore  uncovered 
among  the  Shoshones  where  the  gold  could  be 
flaked  off  the  quartz  with  a  pocket  knife.  But 
such  finds  were  rare,  and  the  "  pockets  "  extremely 
limited.  It  paid  richly  to  transport  such  ore  down 
to  Cody  on  packhorses  or  freighters'  wagons  and 
send  it  to  Butte  or  Omaha  where  the  metal  could 
be  separated  from  the  ore  by  machinery. 

Presently  Lucky  turned  his  horse's  head  away 
from  Wood  River,  and  followed  a  turbulent  little 
tributary  which  raced  and  tumbled  about  among 
the  hills  that  were  gradually  closing  in,  steep, 
rocky,  and  barren.  He  rode  bent  forward  over  the 
medicine  chest,  his  head  sunken  in  thought.  Be 
tween  his  heavy  brows  his  forehead  was  contracted 
in  an  anxious  furrow.  He  was  evidently  troubled, 
and  Ross,  after  a  fruitless  attempt  to  engage  him 
in  further  conversation,  fell  into  silence  also. 

The  sun  had  begun  to  sink  toward  the  west 
when  the  horsemen  entered  a  canon  through  which 
the  South  Fork  foamed  downward,  dropping  over 
boulders  with  a  roar,  or  gurgling  through  a  narrow 
channel  far  below  the  trail.  This  canon  was  very 
like  Wood  River  Canon,  except  that  the  South  Fork 
was  smaller  than  the  stream  that  received  it  and 
the  gorge  it  had  worn  for  itself  between  the  ranges 
was  not  wide  enough  to  admit  of  a  wagon  trail. 

35 


ROSS    GRANT 

Finally  Lucky,  who  was  still  riding  ahead, 
turned  in  his  saddle  and  looked  over  his  shoulder. 
"  Doc/'  he  began,  "  I'm  sorry  I  didn't  pack  no 
grub  along.  You'll  be  hollow  clean  t'  your  toes 
before  we  strike  Elk  Pass." 

"  It  won't  be  the  first  time,"  responded  Ross 
cheerfully.  "  That's  my  natural  state  up  here  in 
the  mountains !  " 

The  older  man  and  the  younger  grinned  at  each 
other  a  moment  understandingly.  Then  Lucky 
faced  about  slowly,  hesitated  and  turned  back 
again. 

"  Doc,"  he  asked  haltingly,  "  d'ye  happen  t' 
know  where  Dad  Page  is?" 

"  No.  The  Monkey  told  me  that  his  father,  as 
deputy  sheriff,  was  out  rounding  up  some  cattle 
thieves."  Here  Ross  halted  abruptly  and  then 
burst  out,  "  Now  I  know  where  I've  heard  of 
Fred  Holzworth  before.  Nick  said — this  man 
owed  Dad  Page,  didn't  he  ?  Dad  grub-staked  him 
last  summer,  Nick  said." 

Lucky  hesitated  oddly.  Then  he  answered  cau 
tiously,  "  So  I've  heard." 

Again  they  mounted  the  trail  in  silence.  Jan 
uary  once  more  mingled  with  June ;  and  the 
horses,  which  an  hour  before  had  been  crushing 
wild  flowers  under  their  hoofs,  were  now  slipping 
and  stumbling  over  snow  banks,  while  the  stream 

36 


GOLD    HUNTER 

swirled  past,  hurrying  cakes  of  ice  into  the  warm 
valley  far  below.  Presently  the  trail  ahead  seemed 
entirely  closed  by  a  singular  rock  tower  with  per 
pendicular  sides.  The  trail  zigzagged  to  its  foot 
and  then  seemed  to  disappear. 

"  Hello  !  "  exclaimed  Ross.  "  Do  we  go  through 
that  little  old  rock  or  climb  over  it  or  dig  under 
it?" 

Lucky  looked  back  with  a  pleasant  smile. 
"  The  Hoof  of  the  Elk  that  is,"  said  he,  "  and 
we  go  'round  it.  We've  reached  th'  Valley  of  the 
Pass — Elk's  Pass,  ye  know." 

"  Without  any  elk  ? "  added  Ross  interroga 
tively. 

"  Without  any  elk,"  affirmed  Lucky.  "  When 
I  first  come  here  there  was  mebby  a  hundred  head 
hereabouts,  but  they  don't  like  the  sound  of  dyna 
mite  or  the  smell  of  men.  They've  gone  further 
back  now,  over  nearer  Yallerstone  Park." 

"  Who  is  in  the  Valley  ?  "  asked  Ross,  anxious 
to  know  in  advance  whom  he  was  to  meet. 

"Wall,  first  off  there  was  the  Toddler,  and 
Trigger  and  me.  We're  at  work  there  provin' 
up  our  claims.  Then  along  come  the — stranger 
— Hans  Holzworth.  Now  you  come."  Here 
Lucky  stopped  a  moment  and  then  added  in  a 
mutter,  "  And  I  hope  that's  all  that  will  come." 

As  the  travelers  approached  the  Hoof,  Ross 

37 


ROSS    GRANT 

saw  that  the  trail  veered  to  the  right  of  the  rock 
and  passed  through  a  narrow  defile.  On  the  other 
side  the  mountains,  that  towered  thousands  of 
feet  above  their  heads,  turning  the  sunny  after 
noon  into  shadowy  evening,  retreated,  forming  a 
little  valley.  And  through  the  Pass,  a  deep, 
narrow  gorge  opening  toward  the  west  in  the 
direction  of  Miners'  Camp,  poured  the  glorious 
hot  June  sunshine,  dissolving  the  last  vestige  of 
snow  in  its  track  and  rejuvenating  an  abundant 
growth  of  coarse,  nutritious  grass.  On  the  bank 
of  the  creek  stood  a  hobbled  broncho  drinking. 
At  the  mouth  of  the  Pass  was  a  log  shack,  and 
in  the  center  of  the  valley  two  more  built  within 
a  rod  of  each  other.  Against  the  logs  of  the  larger 
leaned  two  men  silently  watching. 

"  Which  is  which  ?  "  asked  Ross. 

"  Short  one's  Tod  Brunei ;  thin  one's  Trigger 
West." 

The  Toddler,  short,  fat,  good-natured,  waddled 
as  he  walked.  Trigger  was  lean,  restless,  and 
nervous  in  his  movements.  At  present,  however, 
he  industriously  supported  the  side  logs  with  the 
Toddler,  his  hands  rammed  deep  into  his  pockets. 

Lucky  introduced  Ross  by  jerking  his  head  in 
the  boy's  direction  and  announcing :  "  Doc's  all 
in.  Better  rustle  'im  some  grub." 

"Snaked  'im  along,  didn't  ye?"  exclaimed 

38 


GOLD   HUNTER 

Trigger,  removing  his  hands  from  his  pockets 
and  awakening  to  action.  He  grinned  hospitably 
at  Ross.  "  Wall,  Lucky,  I  never  met  up  with 
your  equal  on  doin'  what  ye  set  out  V  do." 

The  Toddler  also  grinned  genially  at  Ross,  but 
addressed  his  companion.  "  Say,  Lucky,  if  you 
haven't  had  anything  to  eat  since  you  left  here 
at  midnight,  the  front  of  your  stomach  must  be 
smashin'  against  your  back-bone !  " 

"  Doc's  is,"  assented  Lucky.  Then  he  nodded 
toward  the  door  of  the  other  shack.  "  How  is 
he?" 

"  So-so,"  responded  Tod  easily.  "  Luny  off  and 
on,  face  swelled  big  as  two,  drinkin'  the  crick  dry 
right  along,  and  squinting  at  a  letter  from  his  best 
girl  on  the  sly." 

Lucky,  about  to  dismount,  jerked  himself  up 
right  in  the  saddle.  "  Letter  ? "  he  repeated 
quickly. 

Trigger  jumped  into  the  conversational  arena, 
his  hands  in  action.  "  He  does  this  way  with  it, 
and  this,  and  then  this,"  going  through  the  mo 
tions  of  bringing  the  letter  close  to  his  eyes  and 
then  holding  it  off  at  arm's  length.  "  But  he 
can't  seem  to  see  nothin',  along  of  one  eye 
bein'  tied  up  and  the  other  not  bein'  in  workin' 
order." 

"  Must  be  from  some  girl,  or  he  wouldn't  be  so 

39 


ROSS    GRANT 

blamed  anxious  to  look  at  it  again,"  affirmed  Tod, 
"  nor  to  hide  it  when  we're  around." 

Lucky  offered  no  comments,  but  proceeded  to 
dismount,  whereupon  the  two  spectators  retired  to 
the  interior  of  the  shack,  where  a  clatter  of  tin 
ware  indicated  that  they  were  "  rustling  grub." 

"This  shack's  Tod's,"  explained  Lucky. 
"  Here's  where  we  eat.  That  one's  Trig's.  He's 
there.  Mine  is  yon  beside  the  Pass.  Before  he 
come  we  was  each  livin'  in  our  own.  Now  we've 
had  to  double  up  and  change  'round.  One  of  us 
stays  all  the  time  with  him.  Want  yer  box  in 
where  he  is  ?  " 

Ross  nodded,  and  Lucky,  lifting  the  small  but 
heavy  chest  lightly,  bore  it  into  the  shack,  fol 
lowed  by  the  boy. 

Trigger's  shack,  that  housed  the  sick  man,  like 
the  others,  consisted  of  one  room,  the  log  walls 
and  ceiling  chinked  with  dried  mud.  The  hard 
dirt  floor  was  uneven,  the  small  sheet-iron  stove 
rusty,  and  the  pine  board  table  minus  a  leg.  There 
were  boxes  for  chairs,  and,  nailed  against  the  side 
logs,  one  on  either  side  of  the  small,  dirty  window, 
were  bunks  filled  with  mountain-grass  and  covered 
with  soiled  blankets. 

In  one  of  these  bunks  lay  Hans  Holzworth,  a 
young  German.  A  red  kerchief  was  bound  over 
one  eye ;  the  other  was  bloodshot.  His  face  was 

40 


GOLD    HUNTER 


MAP  OF  THE  VALLEY 
OF  THE  PASS 


1  THE    PASS 

2  LUCKY 'S  SHACK 

3  THE  THREE  TUNNELS 

4  TOD'S  SHACK 

5  TRIGS  SHACK 

6  GOLD  GULCH 


ROSS    GRANT 

badly  swollen  and  rough  with  a  neglected  beard. 
At  present  he  was  coughing  and  shaking  in  a 
chill.  As  the  two  entered  the  shack,  he  hastily 
slipped  a  fat  envelope  under  a  folded  blanket 
which  served  as  a  pillow. 

"  Doc's  come/'  announced  Lucky,  depositing 
the  chest  on  the  floor. 

The  one  eye  stared  uncomprehendingly  from 
man  to  boy.  Then  Hans  arose  shakily  on  one 
elbow,  pointed  to  his  swollen  face,  and  poured  out 
a  flow  of  German,  to  which  Ross  shook  his  head 
hopelessly.  But  when,  by  way  of  introducing 
himself,  he  grasped  the  sick  man's  wrist  and  placed 
a  finger  on  the  pulse,  an  expression  of  grateful 
comprehension  illuminated  the  eye ;  and  Hans, 
falling  back  in  the  bunk,  intrusted  himself  to  the 
care  of  the  embryo  physician.  Then  Ross,  throw 
ing  off  his  top  coat  and  unlocking  the  chest,  fell 
to  work.  He  dragged  the  crude  table  to  the  side 
of  the  bunk,  and  laid  thereon  thermometer,  band 
ages,  antiseptics,  absorbent  cotton,  and  half  a  dozen 
other  appliances  with  which  his  uncle,  Dr.  Grant, 
had  furnished  him.  His  manner  underwent  a 
change.  From  a  diffident,  overgrown  boy  of  slow 
and  rather  uncertain  movements  he  became  alert, 
sure  of  motion,  and  possessed  of  a  species  of  self- 
confidence  which  breeds  confidence  in  others. 
Ross,  so  his  uncle  affirmed,  was  born  a  physician. 

42 


GOLD   HUNTER 

Lucky  felt  the  change,  and  drew  nearer  hope 
fully.  His  deep-set  eyes  lighted  and  warmed  until 
Ross,  glancing  up  at  the  strong  face  with  its  square 
jaws  and  big,  rugged  features,  met  the  warmth, 
and  knew  that  it  had  melted  his  last  regret  that  he 
was  at  Elk's  Pass  instead  of  speeding  toward 
Pennsylvania. 

"  What's  he  got,"  asked  Lucky  finally,  "  besides 
this  here  bad  gash  on  the  cheek  ?  " 

"  I  guess  it's  sort  of  a  grippe,"  answered  the 
embryo  physician.  "  That's  easier  to  deal  with 
than  the  cheek.  The  air  up  here  would  take  care 
of  any  grippe.  The  cut  and  bruise  are  danger 
ously  near  the  eye.  If  I  could  have  attended  to 

it  twenty-four  hours  ago "  he  hesitated.  "  It's 

in  bad  shape  now.  I  wish  a  regular  physician 
could  take  charge  of  him." 

Lucky  squared  his  great  stooped  shoulders.  "  I 
guess  ye're  good  fer  it,  Doc,"  he  returned  with 
quiet  confidence  ;  "  and  there's  no  one  else  t'  git." 

In  an  hour  the  cabin  had  taken  on  the  appear 
ance  and  order  of  a  hospital,  with  Ross  command 
ing  surgeon  and  Lucky  a  willing  but  exceedingly 
clumsy  assistant.  The  cheek  was  dressed,  and  the 
patient's  visible  eye  was  taking  on  a  restful,  sleepy 
expression  when  Tod  came  over  from  the  twin 
cabin  in  his  rolling,  easy  gait  and  planted  him 
self  curiously  in  the  doorway.  Behind  him  came 

43 


ROSS    GRANT 

Trigger  with  quick,  nervous  steps.     He  also  looked 
in  curiously  over  the  shorter  man's  shoulders. 

"  H'm'm,"  sniffed  Tod,  wrinkling  his  fat  nose. 
"  Smells  like  the  time  I  had  two  teeth  out,  one 
man  holding  me  and  a  couple  more  pullin'.  That 
was  in  Omaha.  Didn't  know  there  was  a  smell 
like  it  in  the  mountains.  H'm  !  Can't  say  it  is 
exactly  as  fetching  as  rose  perfume,  but  it  may  be 
a  plaguy  sight  more  useful." 

Ross  laughed.  "  It's  the  disinfectant  on  his 
cheek.  That's  a  bad  cut." 

"  I  wisht,"  ventured  Trigger  in  a  hushed  and 
awed  tone,  "  that  I  could  seen  ye  fix  it  up." 

"  You  can  to-morrow." 

"  But  before  to-morrow,"  interposed  Tod,  "  there's 
a  feedin'  or  three  of  bacon  and  flapjacks  and  a  few 
other  things.  One  feed  is  ready  right  now,  and  I 
surmise  you're  both  ready  for  it.  The  flapjacks 
will  be  cold  if  you  don't  hurry.  Now,  if  Trig 
here  had  baked  'em,"  he  explained  leading  the 
way  to  the  other  cabin,  "  they'd  be  full  better 
taken  cold  and  far  apart  ;  but  mine  can  be 
snaked  down  by  the  dozen  pipin'  hot." 

"  Doc,"  defended  Trigger  as  they  sat  down  to 
flapjacks  and  coffee,  "  if  ye  stay  here  long  enough, 
ye'll  find  that  the  only  quick  thing  about  this 
man  Tod  is  his  tongue.  It  don't  seem  t'  tire  him 
none  t'  wag  it  from  mornin'  till  night !  " 

44 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  I  was  born  tired/'  Tod  returned,  "  and  haven't 
had  time  yet  to  outgrow  the  feelin'." 

"  Huh  !  "  retorted  Trigger.  "  The  more  ye  grow 
the  less  you  outgrow  that  feelin'.  If  ye'd  move 
around  more " 

"  You  do  enough  movin'  around  for  both,"  in 
terrupted  the  Toddler  with  great  good  nature. 
"Trig,  if  you  were  as  full  of  learnin'  as  I  am 
you'd  know  there  was  such  a  thing  as  conserva 
tion  of  energy,  and  that's  exactly  what  I  am." 

Ross  chuckled  and  looked  with  an  access  of 
interest  at  Tod.  He  appeared  to  have  had  a 
wider  acquaintance  than  the  other  two  with  the 
world  beyond  the  mountains. 

"  I  don't  know  a  thing  about  no  conservation 
of  energy  by  that  name,"  returned  Trig,  "  but  if 
it  does  mean  you  I  know  what  I'd  call  it !  " 

At  this  thrust  the  Toddler  sent  out  such  an 
amused  shout  that  Ross  hushed  him.  "  That 
man  Hans  what's-his-name  ought  to  be  asleep 
by  this  time,"  he  expostulated. 

Tod  subsided  sheepishly.  "  Ain't  used  to  having 
sick  folks  about,  Doc.  Anyway,  it's  all  Trig's 
fault !  You'll  have  to  rope  and  tie  him  half  the 
time  to  keep  him  quiet.  He's  a  fizzling,  sizzling 
Fourth  of  July  fireworks  display  all  the  year 
around." 

"  With  you  to  tech  off  the  fuses  !  "  mentioned 

45 


ROSS    GRANT 

Lucky,  at  which  the  Toddler  shook  like  a  bowl 
of  jelly. 

Tod  sat  in  the  door  of  the  cabin  as  Lucky  and 
Ross  ate,  but  Trigger  was  ever  on  the  move.  It 
did  not  take  Ross  long  to  learn  the  leading  char 
acteristics  of  the  two  men  which  had  given  them 
their  nicknames.  By  nature,  the  Trigger  was 
restless  and  excitable.  He  was  imaginative,  and 
saw  future  success  and  failure  largely  according  to 
his  mood.  One  day  his  mining-claims  were  bound 
to  yield  him  a  fortune  ;  the  Burlington  Railroad 
was  bound  to  build  a  branch  up  among  the  moun 
tains  within  a  year  ;  and  a  smelter  would  soon  be 
located  at  Miners'  Camp.  The  next  day  his  future 
would  be  filled  with  gloom,  the  claims  a  failure, 
and  the  Burlington  road  an  unreliable  factor  in 
the  development  of  the  mining-interests  of  the 
Shoshones. 

To  Tod,  with  his  round,  red  cheeks  and  sleepy 
eyes,  the  work  of  the  day  was  sufficient,  and  the 
day's  hopes  and  fears.  "  I  wouldn't  build  that 
smelter  to-night,"  he  would  advise  the  irritated 
Trigger,  "  nor  lay  the  ties  for  the  branch  road. 
Wait  till  some  day  when  you  lay  off  from  work 
up  in  the  tunnel." 

Between  the  two  stood  Lucky.  Lucky  worked 
as  hard  as  Trigger,  but  possessed  a  stability  and 
common  sense  which  Trigger  lacked.  He  was  as 

46 


GOLD    HUNTER 

calm  as  Tod,  but  possessed  the  ambition  and  ac 
tivity  which  Tod  lacked.  Instinctively  Ross 
turned  to  Lucky.  So  did  the  other  two. 

The  boy  was  glad,  when  night  came,  to  hear 
Lucky  announce  his  intention  of  staying  in  Trig 
ger's  cabin,  where  the  sick  man  lay.  He  brought 
his  blankets  from  the  cabin  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Pass  and  made  up  a  bed  on  the  floor.  Ross  was  to 
occupy  the  second  bunk  in  the  cabin  as  long  as  he 
remained  in  the  valley.  Hans  was  restless  and 
feverish,  and  Ross's  confidence  in  his  own  medical 
skill  was  not  so  great  as  to  preclude  uneasiness  as 
to  the  outcome  of  his  patient's  illness.  He  felt  the 
same  sense  of  security  in  Lucky's  presence  that 
Lucky  evidently  felt  in  his. 

About  nine  o'clock  Hans  fell  asleep,  and  Lucky 
insisted  on  Ross's  turning  in.  "  Ye've  had  a  hard 
day  of  it,  Doc,  and  ye  might  as  well  rest  when  ye 
can.  I'll  set  by  fer  a  spell  and  give  'im  water  when 
he  wakes  up." 

Therefore,  Ross  rolled  himself  up  in  a  blanket, 
the  night  being  cold,  and  tumbling  into  the  bunk, 
fell  asleep  immediately  ;  but  it  was  not  a  sound 
sleep.  The  care  of  Hans  oppressed  him,  and,  at 
the  least  movement  from  the  other  bunk,  he  would 
open  his  eyes.  Whenever  Hans'  temperature  arose 
ever  so  little,  he  became  slightly  delirious  ;  and, 
presently,  he  began  to  push  and  work  at  the  side 

47 


ROSS    GRANT 

logs,  muttering  something  about "  das  Gold."  The 
mutter  aroused  Ross,  but  he  did  not  at  once  move. 
He  merely  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  across  the 
intervening  space  at  the  mutterer.  Between  the 
bunks  in  front  of  the  window  stood  the  little  rough 
table,  and  on  it  was  a  miner's  candlestick,  the 
candle  burning  low. 

Ross  wondered  if  Lucky  were  asleep  and  was 
about  to  raise  his  arm  from  its  position  across  his 
face  when  Hans,  throwing  off  his  blanket  im 
patiently,  drew  an  envelope  from  beneath  the 
folded  blanket  which  served  as  a  pillow.  He  con 
tinued  to  mutter  about  "  das  Gold  "  while  turning 
the  envelope  aimlessly  over  and  over.  Simultane 
ously  there  was  a  light  step  in  front  of  Ross's  bunk 
and  Lucky,  in  his  bare  feet,  approached  the  sick 
man  swiftly  and  bent  over  him,  scanning  the 
directions  on  the  envelope.  It  was  at  once  thrust 
hastily  under  the  pillow,  while  Hans  stared  upward 
straining  his  exposed  eye  in  a  delirious  effort  to 
place  the  intruder. 

Lucky,  making  no  effort  to  touch  the  letter, 
drew  back,  and  filling  a  cup  with  cold  water  from 
a  pail,  raised  the  sick  man's  head  gently  and  held 
the  cup  to  his  lips.  Then,  with  a  glance  at  Ross, 
lying  with  his  arm  across  his  face,  he  lay  down  be 
tween  the  blankets  he  had  spread  on  the  hard  floor 
and  went  to  sleep. 

48 


GOLD    HUNTER 

In  the  morning,  Tod  "  slung  grub  "  for  the  little 
community,  after  which  he  and  Trigger  repaired  to 
their  tunnels  on  the  side  of  Elk  Mountain,  but 
Lucky  lingered  with  Ross,  although  the  latter 
had  learned  that  he  was  behind  in  his  assessment 
work. 

"  You  don't  need  to  stay  here  all  day,"  Ross  de 
clared.  "  I  can  take  care  of  Hans — but  see  here  !  " 
he  pointed  at  the  side  of  the  shack ;  "  if  I  need  you 
what's  the  matter  with  hanging  a  towel  on  those 
nails  outside  here  ?  Can't  you  see  it  from  your 
tunnel  ?  " 

Lucky  absently  stared  at  the  spot  on  the  logs  in* 
dicated,  and  nodded.  Then  his  gaze  went  back  to 
the  trail  that  led  from  Wood  River  Valley  over  the 
intervening  mountains  and  through  the  Pass.  He 
was  standing  between  the  two  shacks  while  Ross 
occupied  the  doorway  of  Trigger's  cabin.  There 
seemed  to  be  something  on  his  mind  about  which 
he  could  not  bring  himself  to  speak  at  once. 

"  Which  tunnel  is  yours  ?  "  asked  Ross  finally, 
scanning  the  side  of  Elk. 

"  Middle  one.  Trig's  is  on  the  left  and  Tod's  the 
right." 

Elk  Mountain  was  the  highest  peak  in  the 
mountains  encircling  the  valley.  It  rose  pre 
cipitously,  facing  Ross  as  he  looked  out  from  the 
doorway.  Its  side  was  bare  of  all  vegetation  in 

49 


ROSS    GRANT 

long  avalanche-swept  slopes,  that  alternated  with 
timber-packed  stretches  protected  from  the  loads  of 
snow  and  ice  above  by  huge  up-standing  boulders 
or  sudden  outcropping  ridges  above  timber  line. 
A  well-worn  trail  led  from  the  shacks  across  the 
valley  to  the  Pass,  zigzagged  up  the  mountain 
from  the  foot  of  this  cut,  and  then,  turning,  led 
still  up  across  the  face  of  the  mighty  granite  pile 
to  where  three  rectangular  openings,  dark  and 
timber-framed,  opened  into  the  heart  of  the  moun 
tain.  In  the  tunnels  to  which  these  doorways  led 
the  three  residents  of  the  valley  were  doing  the 
"  development  work  " — in  this  case  digging — re 
quired  by  law  before  they  could  "  patent  the 
claims,"  or,  in  other  words,  receive  from  the  state 
of  Wyoming  the  full  rights  to  that  bit  of  public 
land  to  which  each  had  laid  claim,  ownership 
rights  that  carried  with  them  a  right  not  only  to 
the  worthless  surface,  but  to  all  metals  and  minerals 
that  might  be  found  anywhere  within  the  twenty 
acres  that  constitute  one  legal  "  claim." 

Ross,  watching,  saw  Trigger  presently  trundle  a 
small  hand-car  full  of  ore  out  of  his  tunnel  across 
the  trail  and  dump  it  down  the  mountainside. 
From  that  distance  the  worker  looked  like  a 
miniature  man,  but  his  outlines  were  perfectly  dis 
tinct  in  the  rare,  clear  air  that  deceives  the  stranger 
in  the  mountains  and  causes  him  to  think  that  an 

So 


GOLD    HUNTER 

object  fifteen  miles  away  is  lying  within  a  mile  of 
his  door. 

Suddenly  Lucky  asked  without  looking  up: 
"  Doc,  when  Hans  speaks  Dutch,  you  don't  savvy 
what  he  means,  do  you  ?  " 

Ross  shook  his  head.  "  Only  a  few  words.  I  can 
read  a  little — just  sort  of  primer  sentences.  I  took 
French  at  prep  school,  but  I've  studied  German  a 
little  by  myself.  I  have  to  have  it  in  college. 
Got  a  dictionary  in  my  box." 

Lucky's  head  sank  forward  until  his  chin  rested 
on  his  chest.  For  a  moment  he  dug  his  toe  into 
the  loam.  Then,  suddenly,  whirling  on  his  heel, 
he  planted  himself  in  front  of  the  astonished  boy. 

"  Doc,"  he  said  quietly,  "  there's  somethin'  I 
must  tell  ye  before  I  go  t'  work — and  ask  ye  t'  do. 
That  letter  in  there" — he  nodded  toward  Hans' 
bunk, — "  ye  must  have  seen  'im  have  it  in  his 
hand  ?  "  Lucky  paused  for  confirmation. 

Ross  nodded. 

"Wall,  it  ain't  from  no  girl,  that  letter  ain't. 

Tod  and  Trigger,  they  don't  know.  It's  from " 

He  checked  himself  and  then  began  again.  "  I 
want  ye  t'  take  it  and  lock  it  up  in  yer  chest 
there,  and  say  nothin'  to  nobody  about  it.  Keep 
it  tight  against  his  gettin'  well." 

Ross  started  back  with  a  negative  movement 
of  his  hand.  "Oh,  no "  he  was  beginning 


ROSS    GRANT 

when  Lucky  cut  him  short.  In  his  earnestness 
he  grasped  the  boy's  arm  in  a  hand  the  uncon 
scious  tension  of  which  made  him  wince. 

"  Doc,  yesterday  when  I  found  Bill  didn't  know 
Hans  was  here  I  sort  of  rested  easy  on  nobody's 
knowin',  but  I've  made  up  my  mind  that  it  ain't 
safe  t'  do  no  restin'.  Even  if  Bill  don't  know 
there's  them  that  may.  Now,  Doc,  I'll  tell  ye 
somethin'  about  it,  and  then  you'll  see  what  I 
mean.  Tell  me  first,  though — what  d'ye  know 
about  Fred  Holzworth  ?  " 

Ross  hesitated.  "  I  never  heard  of  him  until 
Nick  Page  told  me — and  he  didn't  tell  much,  just 
that  Dad  had  grub-staked  this  Fred  last  sum 
mer  " 

"  Was  it  a  grub-stake  or  a  loan  ?  "  asked  Lucky 
sharply. 

Ross  hesitated.  "  What  did  Nick  say  about 
that — he  spoke  of  both — I  can't  remember  which 
he  said  it  was." 

"  They's  some  different,"  Lucky  muttered. 

With  the  difference  Ross  was  well  acquainted, 
a  grub-stake  entitling  the  staker  to  half  of  the 
discoveries  of  the  man  whom  he  had  outfitted  for 
prospecting. 

"  Well,  anyway,"  Ross  continued,  "  I  got  the 
idea  from  Nick  that  Holzworth  was  just  an  unsuc 
cessful,  quartz-crazy  prospector." 

52 


GOLD   HUNTER 

Lucky  released  the  boy's  arm  and  again  faced 
Elk  Mountain.  He  drew  a  long  breath.  "  Not  s' 
unsuccessful  as  folks  thinks,"  he  began.  "  No,  be 
fore  he  died  Fred  struck  it  rich  somewhere ;  he 
never  told  me  where.  But  he  was  a  sick  man 
when  he  made  his  find  wherever  it  was.  He  had 
t'  hike  out.  He  got  as  fer  as  Meeteetse,  and  no 
further." 

Again  Lucky  drew  a  long  breath.  He  jerked 
his  thumb  over  his  shoulder.  "  That  letter  in 
there  I  directed  myself,  'n'  I  packed  it  t'  the  post- 
office.  I  never  seen  the  inside  of  it,  but  I  have 
reasons  fer  sayin' " — here  a  long  arm  shot  out 
impressively — "  reasons,  mind  ye,  fer  sayin'  that 
the  way  to  what  Fred  found  is  put  down  in  it ; 
and,  Doc,  nobody  but  Fred's  brother  must  find  the 
way." 

For  a  moment  Lucky  and  Ross  stared  at  each 
other  in  silence.  Then  Lucky's  face  lighted  as  he 
added  quietly  :  "  Doc,  ye  can  see  now  why  nobody 
must  see  the  inside  of  that  letter.  If  Trig  and 
Tod  believe  it's  from  some  girl,  let  'em — but,  Doc, 
I  asks  ye — will  ye  find  some  way  t7  get  hold  of 
that  letter?  Mebby  he'll  trust  ye  with  it,  because 
you're  helpin'  him." 

"  If  I  can  make  him  understand,"  assented  Ross 
finally,  "  I  will."  Then  he  broke  off  abruptly, 
and  glanced  up  at  the  side  of  Elk  Mountain. 

S3 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  But  if  they  don't  know  anything  about  its  im 
portance,  why  do  you  worry " 

Lucky  interrupted.  "  I  wa'n't  thinkin'  of  them, 
either  of  'em,  but  of  some  one  that  I  knows  sus 
pects  about  what's  in  the  letter.  And  he  has  it  in 
'im  t'  make  this  here  Hans  Holzworth  a  powerful 
sight  of  trouble  !  " 


54 


CHAPTER  III 

NICHOLAS   ARRIVES — AND  OTHERS 

As  abruptly  as  he  had  begun  the  conversation 
Lucky  ended  it.  He  left  Ross  puzzling  over  the 
man  under  suspicion.  Naturally  he  thought  at 
once  of  Dad  Page  because  of  what  Nicholas  had 
told  him,  but  Dad  did  not  answer  to  Lucky's  de 
scription  of  some  one  "  who  has  it  in  him  to  make 
Hans  a  powerful  sight  of  trouble." 

"  Dad's  reputation  in  these  parts  is  all  right," 
Ross  told  himself  as  he  reentered  the  cabin.  "  And 
as  long  as  Lucky  told  me  part  I  wish  he  had  made 
a  clean  breast  of  the  whole  thing." 

With  his  thoughts  divided,  he  turned  his  atten 
tion  to  ways  and  means  of  getting  hold  of  the 
letter.  Presently  he  determined  on  his  action. 
Getting  out  his  German  dictionary,  he  sat  down 
on  his  chest,  and,  turning  his  back  on  the  door 
way,  bent  to  his  task  of  framing  crude  sentences  in 
German.  As  he  worked,  the  brilliant  sunshine, 
streaming  through  the  Pass,  touched  with  glory 
the  white  heads  of  the  peaks  opposite  Elk  ;  it 
streamed  in  at  the  open  door  of  the  cabin.  It 

55 


GRANT 

melted  a  film  of  ice  across  South  Fork,  and  sent  it 
tinkling  merrily  on  its  way  to  Wood  River  Valley. 

Ross  could  scarcely  keep  his  eyes  on  his 
work.  The  glorious  morning  called  him.  He 
was  forgetting  the  long  shut-in,  snow-bound 
months  that  had  gone  before.  He  was  begin 
ning  to  feel  more  friendly  to  the  mountains, 
more  at  home  among  them.  The  life  out-of-doors 
and  heavy  manual  labor  had  lifted  his  shoulders, 
accustomed  to  drooping  too  long  at  a  time  over  a 
medical  book,  and  had  given  a  steel-like  timbre  to 
his  muscles,  while  the  invigorating,  pure  air  had 
expanded  his  chest.  And  now  the  life,  hardy, 
free,  healthful,  was  beginning  to  appeal  to  him. 
Devoted  as  he  was  to  his  chosen  profession  he 
realized  that  he  preferred  to  be  with  Lucky  up  on 
the  side  of  Elk,  wielding  a  pickaxe,  than  sitting 
inert  beside  a  sick  man.  From  one  of  the  tunnels 
came  a  series  of  blasts,  echoing  among  the  moun 
tains  and  disturbing  Ross's  distasteful  literary 
labors.  Inside  the  cabin  quiet  reigned  as  his 
pencil  traveled  laboriously  across  the  paper.  Oc 
casionally  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  Hans, 
who  alternately  slept  and  fumbled  at  the  logs 
against  which  his  bunk  was  nailed  and  talked  of 
"  das  Gold  "  to  the  puzzled  listener. 

Suddenly,  without  warning,  there  was  a  sound 
just  outside  the  shack,  a  human  sound.  Ross  had 

56 


GOLD    HUNTER 

heard  no  one  approach,  but  now  a  sibilant  "  Sh  " 
sounded  near  the  door.  Startled,  he  sprang  to  his 
feet,  dictionary,  pencil  and  paper  sliding  from  his 
knees.  Striding  across  the  dirt  floor  he  came  face 
to  face  with  the  Monkey,  peering  around  the  door 
jamb  curiously  at  the  sick  man. 

"  I'm  here,"  announced  the  boy.  "  What  did  I  tell 
you  ?  All  here  !  Grub,  sleeping  bag  and  all.  I  ask 
no  favors  of  the  grouchy  Lucky.  He  doesn't  own 
quite  all  of  the  Valley  of  the  Pass.  I  salute  it !  " 

With  this  the  visitor  dropped  lightly  on  his 
hands,  elevated  his  legs  and  standing  upright  on 
the  top  of  his  tow  head  waved  his  feet  in  salutation 
east,  west,  north  and  south,  while  Ross  sat  on  his 
feet  in  the  doorway  and  laughed.  Having  finished 
this  ceremony,  the  younger  boy  threw  himself  over 
backward  in  a  somersault,  and  landed  on  his  feet, 
bounding  in  the  air  a  couple  of  times  as  though  he 
were  made  of  rubber  and  could  no  more  stop  than 
a  ball  set  in  motion. 

"How  do  you  do  it?"  asked  Ross.  He  had 
asked  this  question  of  Nicholas  many  times  with 
the  helplessness  born  of  the  consciousness  of  his 
own  heavy,  awkward  movements. 

Nicholas  looked  down  critically  at  his  spidery 
figure.  "  First,  I  was  born  that  way,  and  then  I 
grew  that  way,  and  lastly  I  practised  that  way. 
What  d'ye  think  Dad  wants  me  to  practise  on  ? 

57 


ROSS    GRANT 

The  piano !  "  The  boy  gave  a  derisive  yell.  "  The 
piano  !  Think  of  that  I  Gee,  how  I'd  look  play 
ing  the  piano."  He  suddenly  plumped  himself 
down  on  a  rock,  and  going  through  with  the 
motions  of  spreading  a  pair  of  imaginary  coat  tails, 
smoothing  his  hair  back  and  holding  his  elbows 
close  to  his  sides,  he  bent  his  wiry  little  wrists  down 
ward,  rolled  his  blue  eyes  upward,  and  proceeded 
to  give  an  imaginary  piano  a  thorough  drubbing. 

"  There,  is  that  as  becoming  to  me?  "  he  asked. 
"  And  what  use,"  he  added,  "  would  Buffalo  Bill 
have  for  a  piano  player?  I  spent  all  the  time 
I  could  get  in  the  gymnasium  at  Omaha.  Like 
gym  work  ?  " 

Ross  shook  his  head  reluctantly.  "  I  didn't 
when  I  was  obliged  to  exercise  in  one,  but  I  think 
now  Fd  like  it  better — if  it  could  make  me  half  as 
supple  as  you  are,"  he  added. 

Nicholas  looked  doubtful.  "  You're  not  built 
for  suppleness.  Besides,  you'll  have  more  use  for 
your  head  than  }^our  feet." 

This  mention  of  Ross's  head  reminded  Nicholas 
of  the  patient.  Advancing  his  own  head  cautiously 
inside  the  doorway,  he  again  surveyed  Hans  and 
asked  softly,  "  Have  ye  found  who  he  is  ?  " 

Ross  hesitated.  He  remembered  Lucky's  re 
jection  of  Nicholas'  society  at  the  Pass  and  the 
flimsy  excuses  he  had  given — inhospitable  ex- 

58 


GOLD   HUNTER 

cuses  unusual  for  a  man  of  the  mountains.  Re 
calling  all  this  the  boy  replied  evasively,  "  We 
call  him  Hans." 

"And  why  ' Hands '?"  asked  Nicholas  with  a 
grin,  having  misunderstood  the  name.  He 
pointed  to  a  pair  of  generous  shoes  underneath 
the  bunk.  "  Why  not  '  Feet ;  if  the  name  is  to  fit 
the  biggest  part  of  him  ?  But  come  on  over  and 
help  me  with  the  packhorse.  Feet  is  asleep  now. 
At  least  his  eye  is  shut." 

Ross  followed  slowly,  wondering  what  sort  of  a 
reception  the  Monkey  would  meet  at  the  hands 
of  Lucky.  "  I'll  let  some  one  else  tell  him  who 
Hans  is,"  he  decided,  "  although  he's  got  to  know. 
It's  likely  Lucky  doesn't  want  him  here,  but  here 
he  is  and  here  I  hope  he'll  stay — makes  things 
livelier,  at  any  rate  !  " 

At  the  entrance  to  the  valley,  on  the  banks  of 
the  South  Fork,  stood  the  spotted  pony,  and  a 
packhorse  on  the  wooden  saddle  of  which  were 
the  boy's  supplies  and  sleeping  bag.  Ross,  with  a 
backward,  careful  glance  at  his  patient,  and  a 
careless  glance  at  the  dictionary,  open  on  the 
floor,  crossed  the  tiny  valley  with  the  Monkey. 
His  acquaintance  with  pack  outfits  was  not  so  in 
timate  yet  that  their  structure  and  contents  had 
ceased  to  interest  him.  It  was  rather  exact  work 
to  pack  a  horse  heavily  and  well  for  a  long  jour- 

59 


ROSS    GRANT 

ney,  but  the  Monkey  had  brought  along  only  a 
few  days'  supplies.  First,  a  blanket  was  laid 
across  the  pack  animal  and  on  it  a  big  wooden 
saddle  was  cinched  securely.  Across  this  saddle 
the  load  was  balanced  and  roped.  There  was  a 
bag  of  meal  and  one  of  flour.  There  was  a  gunny 
sack  containing  salt,  sugar,  coffee,  bacon  and  ham. 
On  top  of  these  supplies  another  gunny  bag  held 
a  collection  of  the  indispensable  "  canned  goods," 
while  dangling  at  the  animal's  sides  or  stuck  be 
neath  the  taut  ropes  were  pans,  skillets  and  a 
coffee-pot. 

"  See  here,"  cried  the  Monkey,  delving  among 
the  canned  goods.  "  See  what  I  got !  " 

He  brought  various  tin  cans  to  the  surface, 
peas,  tomatoes,  sauce  of  different  kinds,  sweet 
corn,  and  lastly  asparagus.  This,  with  a  small  jar 
of  butter,  he  exhibited  with  great  glee. 

"  See  here  what  I  brought  up  to  stand  treat  on. 
I  want  you  all  to  fill  up  on  these,  especially  the 
old  Grouch  that  gave  me  such  a  cordial  invite  to 
come  !  Bet  they  haven't  seen  butter  in  this  valley, 
and  mebby  none  of  'em  ever  saw  asparagus.  I 
brought  a  lot  of  cans  of  that  up  from  Omaha  this 
spring.  Dad  doesn't  like  it — says  it  tastes  like 
dish-water.  Hope  it  tastes  like  that  to  these  men, 
and  then  you  and  I  can  put  it  all  away  ! " 

He  grinned  cheerfully  as  he  drew  two  hobbles 

60 


GOLD    HUNTER 

from  the  sack  and  throwing  one  to  Ross,  bent  in 
front  of  the  packhorse.  About  its  fore  legs  just 
above  the  knees  he  buckled  on  the  hobble,  the  two 
encircling  leg  straps  being  connected  by  another 
so  that  the  animal  could  take  steps  of  but  a  few 
inches  long.  This  enabled  it  to  graze  freely,  but 
prevented  it  from  wandering  far  away  or  climbing 
the  mountains.  When  both  horses  were  hobbled, 
the  Monkey  selected  a  hillock  which  the  horses 
could  not  climb.  Here  he  laid  out  his  sleeping 
bag,  at  which  Ross  looked  curiously. 

"  Brought  that  from  Omaha  this  spring  too," 
Nicholas  informed  him.  "  Here,  get  in  it  and  see 
what  it's  like." 

Ross  obeyed.  He  wriggled  himself  between  the 
warm  blankets  fitted  into  a  long  waterproof  bag 
closed  at  its  lower  end,  the  under  side  of  the  bag 
extending  at  the  upper  end  into  a  flap  which  the 
owner  of  the  bag  folded  over  Ross's  head. 

"  There  you  are,  in  case  it  rains,  as  snug  as  a 
bug  in  a  rug  !  "  he  cried  dancing  about.  "  Here  ! 
I  put  the  horse  blankets  for  pillows  under  the  flap 
and  lay  it  back  over  'em  open  pleasant  nights. 
See?  Now  you  can  be  warm  and  easy  and  dry 
and  defy  consumption  of  one  kind  and  another !  " 

"  Except  consumption  of  food,"  added  Ross, 
crawling  out  of  the  bag.  "  I'm  hungry  as  a  hound 
this  minute.  Come  on  over  to  the  cabin  and  let's 

61 


ROSS    GRANT 

get  dinner  ourselves.  We  can  have  it  all  ready 
for  the  men  when  they  come  down.  It's  Trigger's 
turn  to  get  it,  and  he  hates  to  cook. " 

u  It  takes  me  to  sling  good  grub/'  boasted  Nich 
olas.  "  Here,  lend  a  hand  to  get  the  stuff  over 
there  and  then  go  'long !  This  dinner  is  all  on 
me.  I've  brought  up  a  dozen  potatoes  that  I  found 
in  the  cellar  down  at  the  ranch  and  we'll  have 
them  and  some  other  vegetables,  for  fear  the  as 
paragus  tastes  like  dish-water  to  'em,  ye  know," 
with  a  chuckle.  "  Now  I'll  earn  me  a  welcome, 
see  if  I  don't." 

While  Ross  busied  himself  with  the  sick  man, 
the  Monkey  "  slung  grub  "  with  painstaking  care 
and  reckless  prodigality,  determined  to  earn  a 
welcome  from  the  strangely  inhospitable  Lucky. 
When  Trigger  came  from  Elk  bent  on  doing  his 
duty  in  the  culinary  department,  he  began  to  sniff 
inquiringly  as  he  approached  the  twin  cabins. 
Ross,  glancing  out  of  the  doorway  on  his  way  to 
the  water  pail,  saw  him  give  one  glance  into  the 
other  cabin  and  then  shout : 

"  If  here  ain't  the  Monkey  !  The  great  horn 
spoon !  And  if  he  ain't  slinging  grub !  This  is 
one  time  I  ain't  wishin'  that  company  was  a  thou 
sand  miles  away.  I'm  not  at  all  dislikin'  the  kind 
that  takes  a-holt  like  this  !  " 

Unceremoniously  Trigger  stepped  to  the  stove 

62 


GOLD   HUNTER 

and  accompanied  his  comments  by  the  uncovering 
of  various  pans  and  kettles  while  the  cook  stood 
by  laughing. 

"  Spuds  !  "  was  Trigger's  first  discovery  as  he 
looked  at  the  boiling  potatoes.  "Them  didn't 
grow  in  the  Valley  of  the  Pass  !  I  hain't  glued 
my  lookers  on  a  spud  in  so  long  I  forgot  they  be 
long  t'  the  vegetable  kingdom.  Huh  !  "  pointing 
to  a  skillet  of  bacon,  "  that's  no  stranger.  I've  et 
bacon  three  times  a  day  since  these  mountings  was 
young!  Wall,  what  in  tarnation  is  this?"  He 
bent  low  and  surveyed  the  bubbling  contents  of  a 
pan.  "  Eggs  !  Say,  Monkey,  why  didn't  ye  rope 
a  couple  of  the  cattle  that  lays  these  things  and 
bring  'em  along  ?  I  reco'lect  that  hen  is  tasty, 
but  I  can't  reco'lect  how  it  tastes.  As  fer  eggs,  I 
hain't  seen  one  in  s'  long  that  I'd  forgot  they're 
round !  And,  Monkey,  what  under  the  blue 
canopy  is  this  here?"  Trigger  was  looking  at 
the  asparagus,  standing  upright  in  the  can,  from 
which  the  cook  had  removed  the  top.  "  Do  we 
eat  it  or  does  the  bosses?  Is  it  a  newfangled 
picket  fence,  or  do  they  use  it  as  a  hedge  down  in 
Omaha  ?  " 

Before  the  boy  had  time  to  answer,  Lucky  and 
the  Toddler  appeared,  the  latter  as  openly  de 
lighted  at  the  sight  of  the  newcomer  as  Trigger. 
Lucky,  following  Tod,  stopped  on  the  threshold 

63 


ROSS    GRANT 

frowning.     Nicholas  at  once  addressed  the  frown, 
squinting  his  eyes  together  impishly. 

11  You  don't  have  to  give  me  bunk  nor  board.  I 
furnished  both  myself  and  some  board  for  you, 
and  here  it  is  all  cooked  and  ready." 

The  frown  faded  from  Lucky 's  face,  although  his 
eyes  held  an  expression  of  perplexity.  He  glanced 
about.  "  Wall,  the  '  some  fer  us '  don't  look  so 
bad  !  Do  we  eat  now  ?  " 

The  Monkey  dexterously  emptied  the  asparagus 
into  a  basin  and  set  it  on  the  stove.  "  In  just  a 
York  second.  Get  Doc,  will  you  ?  " 

Lucky  crossed  the  space  between  the  twin  cabins 
slowly  and  stood  in  the  doorway  of  Trigger's. 
Ross  had  just  finished  feeding  Hans  and  was  ad 
justing  the  bandage  over  the  injured  cheek.  The 
neglected  dictionary  and  paper  lay  on  the  chest. 

"  Come  t'  grub,"  invited  Lucky.  Then  he 
stepped  inside  and  lowered  his  voice,  "  What  luck, 
Doc,  with  the  letter  ?  " 

Ross  glanced  uneasily  at  the  dictionary.  "  I 
had  begun  to  get  some  German  sentences  together 
when  the  Monkey  came.  You  didn't  want  Nick 
here,  did  you?" 

"  I  don't  want  any  one  here,"  said  Lucky 
slowly,  "  who'll  go  back  and  spread  the  news  in 
Wood  River  Valley  that  Hans  is  here.  That's  the 
only  reason  I  didn't  want  Nick." 

64 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  I  see,"  said  Ross  slowly.  "  Well,  I'll  go  at  that 
letter  business  again  after  dinner." 

"  Of  course,  Doc,"  said  Lucky  haltingly,  "  ye 
didn't  explain  nothin' — to  nobody  ?  " 

Ross  shook  his  head.  "  The  Monkey  doesn't 
even  know  Hans'  name,  to  say  nothing  about  the 
letter." 

He  was  learning  it,  however,  at  that  moment, 
and  when  Ross  reached  the  eating  shack  he  was 
greeted  by  the  demand  : 

"  Hey,  there,  Doc  !  What  d'ye  mean  by  telling 
me  that  '  Feet's  '  name  was  '  Hands  '  !  He's  Fred 
Holzworth's  brother.  Don't  you  know  I  told  you 
over  in  Miners'  that  Fred  died  owing  Dad  ?  " 

Ross  drew  up  the  end  of  a  bench  and  sat  down 
at  the  loaded  table.  "  Oh,  yes!  That's  so,  you 
did  tell  me,"  he  mumbled. 

"  Wonder  if  Dad  knows  about  this  Hans,  and 
that  he's  here  ?  "  speculated  Nicholas,  while  Lucky 
looked  at  him  curiously.  "  Wonder  if  he  has 
come  out  here  as  quartz  crazy  as  Fred  was.  If 
he  is,  I  hope  he  keeps  away  from  Dad.  Dad  can't 
help  grub-stakin'  men  any  more  than  I  can  help — 
well,  he'd  say — talking,"  frankly.  "  But  what's  a 
tongue  made  for  except  to  talk  ?  " 

"  To  eat !  "  responded  Tod,  "  when  you're  around 
to  dish  up  the  grub.  Say  !  Monkey,  you're  the 
very  maverick  that  Trig  would  like  to  corral  here 

65 


ROSS    GRANT 

to  preside  over  our  eatin'  department  perma 
nent  I " 

"  You  bet ! "  cried  Trigger,  his  mouth  full. 
"  What  would  ye  take,  Monk,  to  sling  grub  fer  us 
stiddy — and  furnish  it?  Schoolin'  generally 
makes  a  feller  worthless,  but  it  hain't  you — so  fur, 
that  is,"  encouragingly. 

"  Nobody  has  given  the  asparagus  any  notice 
yet,"  complained  the  cook.  "  What  does  it  taste 
like,  picket  fence  or  hedge  ?  " 

Tod  reached  unceremoniously  across  the  table 
and  secured  another  portion.  "  It  tastes  to  me 
like  Massachusetts  and  York  State  rolled  into  one. 
First  I've  seen  or  smelled  or  tasted  since  I  struck 
the  wild  and  woolly." 

"  We  were  in  hopes,"  observed  Ross,  "  that  no 
one  would  like  it !  " 

"  Here,"  said  Trigger  generously,  "  take  all  that's 
comin'  to  me.  A  little  of  it  goes  a  long  ways  with 
this  cow-puncher !  And  give  me  that  last  spud 
if  there  ain't  a  kick  comin'  from  nobody,"  with  a 
pointed  look  at  Tod. 

"  I  want  it  myself,"  returned  that  individual 
promptly,  "  but  I'll  give  it  up  to  you.  I'm  not 
like  some  that  I  know — who  make  it  a  rule  never 
to  give  away  anything  they  want  themselves ! 
Charity,  I  used  to  hear  back  East,  begins  at 

home!" 

66 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  And  as  I  used  to  hear,"  retorted  Trigger,  "  with 
most  folks  it  generally  stays  there  I " 

After  dinner  Lucky,  who  had  recovered  his 
usual  good-nature,  genially  invited  Nicholas  to  go 
up  to  the  tunnels  with  him,  and  Ross  understood 
that  the  invitation  was  given  to  allow  him  time 
for  the  German  sentences. 

"  Go  on,  Nick/'  he  urged  when  the  boy  hesi 
tated  and  looked  at  him.  "  I'm  going  to  be  busy 
for  a  while  here  and  don't  want  you  around  to 
bother.  I  could  work  just  as  well  looking  at  a 
three-ring  circus  !  " 

Thus  pulled  and  pushed,  the  Monkey  departed 
with  the  men,  leaving  Ross  watching  them  long 
ingly.  As  usual,  Tod  and  Trigger  were  badgering 
each  other,  both  men  being  aided  in  turn  by 
Nicholas  whose  high-pitched  laugh  rang  back 
through  the  valley.  Lucky  walked  slowly  in  ad 
vance,  looking  back  occasionally  at  the  figure  in 
the  doorway.  Lucky  was  not  given  to  speech, 
especially  humorous  speech.  Ross  watched  them 
climbing  the  side  of  Elk,  appearing  and  disappear 
ing  among  the  trees  and  sage-brush  until  they 
looked  like  toy  men  wending  their  way  on  a 
thread  stretched  across  the  face  of  the  mighty 
mountain. 

Before  entering  Lucky 's  tunnel,  the  Monkey 
waved  his  handkerchief  and  Ross,  responding, 

67 


ROSS    GRANT 

turned  reluctantly  again  to  his  dictionary.  The 
tiny  valley  was  silent,  the  horses  having  wandered 
into  the  willows  beside  the  South  Fork.  Hans 
was  asleep,  and  there  was  nothing  to  prevent  Ross 
from  continuing  his  task  of  attempting  to  get  pos 
session  of  the  letter.  It  was  not,  he  considered,  a 
very  necessary  task.  Why  go  to  all  this  trouble 
to  get  possession  of  something  the  importance  of 
which  no  one  at  the  Pass  realized  save  Lucky  and 
himself? 

"  I  believe  Lucky's  worry  is  all  useless,"  Ross 
concluded.  "  I  don't  see  any  harm  in  Hans'  keep 
ing  his  letter.  Don't  believe  I  can  make  him 
understand  my  intentions,  anyway." 

Still,  he  had  promised  Lucky,  and,  therefore,  he 
sat  down  again  on  his  chest,  his  back  to  the  en 
ticing  open  doorway,  his  face  toward  the  sick  man, 
and  began  to  wrestle  with  German  sentences.  An 
hour  passed  and  he  had  become  so  interested  that 
he  did  not  notice  that  Hans  had  awakened  and 
had  slyly  drawn  the  letter  from  beneath  his 
pillow. 

Unfolding  the  sheet,  the  sick  man  held  it  at 
arm's  length  from  the  unfettered  eye,  striving  in 
vain  to  separate  one  word  from  another,  that  eye 
being  unable  to  distinguish  fine  characters  with 
out  the  aid  of  the  broken  lens. 

Suddenly  he  gave  vent  to  a  startled  "  Hein  !  " 

68 


I    DIDN  T    KNOW    YOU    WERE    HERE 


GOLD    HUNTER 

followed  by  a  fit  of  coughing.  Ross  looked  up  in 
time  to  see  him  hastily  fold  up  the  sheet  and  re 
store  it  to  its  envelope  and  the  envelope  to  its 
place  beneath  the  pillow.  Then  a  voice  pleasant 
and  drawling  caused  the  boy  to  spring  to  his  feet 
and  face  the  doorway.  For  the  second  time  that 
day  the  Valley  of  the  Pass  had  suffered  a  noiseless 
invasion. 

"  Hello,  Doc  I  Nose  flattened  ag'in'  a  book,  as 
usual,  ain't  it  ?  Mystery  t'  me  how  it  ever  got  to 
grow  to  such  a  pretty  length.'7 

In  the  doorway,  his  hands  clasped  around  his 
knees,  his  sombrero  pushed  back  on  his  reddish 
hair,  sat  Sandy  McKenzie,  a  man  concerning 
whom  Ross  knew  little  good  and  a  great  deal  of 
harm,  and  whom  he  had  personally  little  cause  for 
liking. 

The  paper  on  which  he  had  been  writing  flut 
tered  to  the  floor.  In  confusion  he  stooped  to  re 
cover  it,  saying  haltingly,  "  Why — hello,  McKenzie. 
I  didn't  know  you  were  here  !  " 

Sandy  arose  and  stretched  up  his  arms  in  a 
vocal  yawn.  The  third  finger  of  his  right  hand 
was  gone.  Ross  had  good  reason  to  remember  the 
occasion  on  which  it  had  been  shot  away.  At 
present,  however,  no  one  would  have  suspected 
that  Sandy  had  any  save  the  most  cordial  feelings 
toward  the  boy. 

69 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  I  didn't  know  I  was  here,  neither,  Doc,  till  a 
minute  or  two  ago,"  he  explained.  "  Mart  and  I 
hiked  'er  up  along  the  South  Fork  prospectin'." 

"  I  heard  only  yesterday  morning,"  exclaimed 
Ross  quickly,  "  that  you  were  going  over  to  the 
Big  Horn." 

Sandy  leaned  against  the  door  jamb,  his  hands 
in  the  pockets  of  his  corduroy  trousers.  "  Ye're 
gittin'  deef,  Doc,  sure  as  preachin',  if  ye  think  ye 
heard  that.  No,  we've  been  outfittin'  fer  these 
parts.  Mebby,"  with  a  wide  grin,  "  they's  a  for 
tune  kickin'  around  here  fer  yours  truly." 

Suddenly  a  light  began  to  dawn  on  Ross.  He 
recalled  Lucky's  question  of  the  day  before  con 
cerning  the  whereabouts  of  Sandy.  A  comparison 
of  the  reputations  of  Sandy  and  Dad  Page  flashed 
over  him,  leaving  him  rapidly  tying  up  Lucky's 
anxiety,  thread  by  thread,  to  Sandy.  As  he 
thought,  he  moved  aimlessly  about  the  shack,  put 
ting  things  to  rights.  He  replied  mumblingly  to 
Sandy's  pleasantry.  The  sick  man  began  impa 
tiently  to  insist  on  something,  only  one  word  of 
which  Ross  understood,  but  at  present  did  not  care 
to  heed. 

Sandy  threw  his  hat  on  the  bench,  and,  adjust 
ing  the  red  silk  tie  beneath  the  turnover  collar  of 
his  gray  flannel  shirt,  walked  coolly  over  to  the 
bunk,  and  surveyed  the  occupant,  the  table,  and 

70 


GOLD   HUNTER 

the  blanket  pillow.  Ross  trod  closely  on  his  heels. 
He  realized  now  why  Lucky  was  so  anxious  to  get 
that  letter  under  lock  and  key. 

"So  Fred's  brother  is  here,"  mused  Sandy. 
"  Poor  Fred  !  Friend  of  mine." 

"  Was  he  ?  "  Ross  asked  himself. 

Sandy  pushed  one  hand  into  his  pocket.  With 
the  other  he  absently  pulled  at  a  lock  of  hair  which 
fell  between  his  eyes.  Without  noticing  Ross's  si 
lence  he  continued,  "  Bill  Travers  told  me  that 
you'd  started  East  hot-footed,  but  Lucky  got  ye  t' 
turn  back.  Wall,  don't  suppose  it'll  be  long  be 
fore  Hans'll  be  up  again.  Eh  ?  " 

Ross  rearranged  the  contents  of  the  table.  "  He'll 
get  over  the  grippe  in  no  time  up  here  in  this  air,  but 
that  face — well,  I'm  not  so  sure  about  his  cheek." 

Resting  one  knee  easily  on  the  bunk,  Sandy 
thrust  both  hands  into  his  pockets  and  asked  so 
licitously  about  the  wound,  occasionally  tossing  the 
hanging  lock  out  of  his  eyes.  Sandy  had  a  frank 
and  pleasing  manner  and  jovial  ways  well  calcu 
lated  to  snare  the  confidence  of  the  unwary.  His 
blue  eyes  met  Ross's  gaze  fully  for  an  instant,  then 
slid  away,  only  to  return  and  slide  away  again. 

"  Wasser,"  demanded  the  sick  man  reproach 
fully. 

"  What's  that  he's  wantin'  ?  "  asked  Sandy  cu 
riously. 


ROSS    GRANT 

Ross  hesitated,  glanced  at  the  empty  pail  on  a 
bench  beside  the  door,  and  replied,  "  Water." 

Sandy  followed  his  eyes,  settled  himself  more 
firmly  against  the  bunk,  and,  without  offering  to 
go  after  the  water,  began  to  relate  volubly  the  in 
cidents  connected  with  outfitting  himself  and  his 
brother  Waymart  for  a  protracted  stay  in  the 
mountains.  Sandy  was  more  talkative  than  the 
majority  of  mountain  men. 

As  Hans'  thirst  became  more  clamorous,  the  new 
comer  removed  his  knee  from  the  bunk,  stretched 
out  his  legs,  and  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I'll 
hang  around  here  with  him,  Doc,"  he  offered  cor 
dially,  "  while  ye  hike  after  some  '  wasser.'  I'd  do 
the  hikin*  myself  if  I  wasn't  so  leg-weary  from  the 
saddle." 

He  spoke  carelessly  ;  but  Ross,  glancing  up, 
caught  a  momentary  gleam  in  his  eyes  as  they 
ranged  over  the  bunk.  The  boy  picked  up  the 
tiny  thermometer,  sat  doggedly  down  on  the  side 
of  the  bunk,  and  inserted  the  instrument  into 
Hans'  mouth,  saying  : 

"  He'll  have  to  go  thirsty  for  a  while." 

Ross  was  doing  some  rapid  thinking.  He  was 
determined  not  to  leave  Sandy  with  that  letter ; 
yet  Hans  ought  to  have  the  water.  At  least  two 
hours  would  elapse  before  the  men  returned  from 
the  side  of  Elk.  Before  that  time,  also,  he  would 

72 


GOLD   HUNTER 

be  obliged  to  go  into  Tod's  shack  to  prepare  some 
jerked-elk  broth  for  the  sick  man.  What  could 
he  do? 

Glancing  about  the  cabin,  his  eyes  rested  on  the 
tin  basin  half  full  of  water.  "  Why,  I  had  forgot 
ten  "  he  began  aloud,  and  checked  himself 

hastily. 

"  Forgotten  what?  "  asked  Sandy. 

"Stuff  for  him  to  take,"  responded  Ross 
promptly. 

He  picked  up  a  bottle,  and  then,  as  though 
another  thought  had  but  then  assailed  him,  laid  it 
aside,  and  took  a  towel  from  the  table,  and,  dip 
ping  it  in  the  basin,  bathed  Hans'  face.  Tossing 
the  wet  towel  across  the  table,  he  asked  good-na 
turedly  :  "  If  you're  not  too  leg-weary,  McKenzie, 
I  wish  you'd  take  that  towel  and  hang  it  up  beside 
the  door.  You'll  see  two  nails  about  a  foot  apart. 
Spread  it  out  well  so  it  will  dry  more  quickly." 


73 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  "WILD  WEST"  SCOUT 

AFTER  hanging  the  towel  outside  the  cabin, 
Sandy  at  once  returned  to  his  post  of  observation 
beside  Hans,  who  was  still  begging  for  "  Wasser." 

"  Better  stop  his  mouth  with  a  drink,"  he  urged. 
"  I'll  stay." 

"  By  and  by,"  assented  Ross,  and  began  to  re 
arrange  the  bandages  over  Hans'  face,  at  the  same 
time  glancing  out  of  the  doorway  to  the  side  of 
Elk. 

Before  the  bandaging  was  completed,  in  response 
to  the  white  sign  he  saw  a  figure  hurrying  along 
the  high  trail.  It  disappeared  among  the  trees 
and  reappeared  presently  at  the  foot  of  the  moun 
tain.  Ross  arose  slowly,  and  picked  up  the 
water  pail.  An  eager  light  flashed  again  into 
Sandy's  eyes.  Ross  stopped  to  wipe  out  the  pail. 
Sandy  moved  restlessly  about  the  cabin,  and  fol 
lowed  the  boy  to  the  door.  There  he  made  a 
sudden  sound  in  his  throat  as  Ross  stopped,  ex 
claiming  innocently  : 

"  If  there  ain't  Lucky  !     I'll  get  him  to  go." 

He  stood  in  the  doorway  with  a  silent  Sandy, 

74 


GOLD  HUNTER 

and  watched  Lucky's  approach.  Down  beside  the 
creek  stood  three  pack  horses  and  two  saddle 
horses.  Waymart  McKenzie,  a  man  slightly 
larger  than  Sandy  and  darker,  was  unloading  the 
stuff.  Sandy  was  the  brains  of  the  McKenzie 
outfit,  and  Waymart  the  hands. 

" Going  to  camp  here?  "  asked  Ross  carelessly. 

Sandy  nodded,  abruptly  pointing  to  the  top  of 
the  knoll  occupied  by  the  Monkey's  possessions. 
"  Whose  outfit  is  that  ?  " 

"  Nicholas  Page's." 

"  Oh — -just  the  Monkey's  !  "  echoed  Sandy  and 
there  was  a  trace  of  relief  in  his  tone.  Then  as 
Lucky  came  striding  toward  them,  he  raised  his 
voice  at  Waymart. 

"  Want  me  ? "  he  asked,  and,  in  answer  to  an 
affirmative  reply,  he  waved  his  hand  at  the  ap 
proaching  man,  grinned  affably  at  Ross,  and  walk 
ing  slowly  across  the  narrow  valley,  aided  his 
brother  in  pitching  a  small  tent  between  two 
spruce  trees  almost  at  the  water's  edge. 

Lucky  said  nothing  until  he  stood  beside  Ross. 
He  was  breathing  heavily,  and  scowling  darkly  at 
the  group  beside  the  creek.  "  Wall — this  is  what 
I  was  afraid  of,"  he  said  finally.  "  Sandy's  been 
on  the  lookout  probably  for  Hans,  and  knew  when 
he  come,  and  has  follered  him — -jest  as  I  was  afraid 
of.  Has  he  seen  that  letter?" 

75 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  No,"  answered  Ross.  Then  he  related  the 
circumstances  which  had  led  to  his  hanging  out 
the  white  signal.  "  I  feel  sure  from  his  manner 
that  Sandy  was  prepared  to  get  a  sight  of  the  letter 
right  now,"  he  added. 

"  I  hain't  a  doubt  of  it,"  Lucky  spoke  with  con 
viction.  "  If  he  could  'a'  seen  it,  he  and  Waymart 
would  'a'  made  their  get-away  without  stoppin'  fer 
so  much  as  a  '  Howdy  '  to  us.  As  ye  see  they're 
fixin'  fer  a  camp.  Now  we  got  t'  keep  our  eyes 
open  'n'  our  tongues  still." 

Inside  came  a  call  for  "  Wasser  "  and  Ross,  leav 
ing  Lucky  studying  the  ground  intently,  obeyed 
the  call.  He  tapped  cheerfully  on  the  empty  pail 
as  he  bore  it  out-of-doors  and  Hans  responded  with 
a  one-sided  smile.  The  way  to  the  water  hole  led 
past  the  site  selected  by  the  McKenzies  for  their 
tent  and  through  a  thicket  of  quaking  asp  bushes 
just  beyond. 

"  Hello,  Waymart !  "  called  Ross. 

Waymart,  as  silent  as  Sandy  was  loquacious, 
glanced  up  with  a  sullen  "  Howd'ye."  Waymart, 
left  to  himself,  would  have  chosen  a  more  restful 
life  than  the  one  planned  by  his  brother. 

When  Ross  returned  with  the  water,  he  found 
Lucky  ready  to  talk. 

"  Doc,  I  want  t'  tell  ye  the  hull  thing,"  he  said 
slowly,  "  because  it's  best  ye  should  understand." 

76 


GOLD    HUNTER 

The  two  retired  to  a  log  near  Tod's  cabin,  and 
sat  down  facing  the  tent-stretching  process  beside 
the  creek. 

"  I  didn't  tell  ye  the  hull  thing  this  morning" 
Lucky  began,  "  because  I  only  suspicioned  what 
Sandy  would  do  ;  and,  when  ye  don't  have  nothin' 
but  suspicion  to  tie  to,  ye  better  tie  to  it  alone,  and 
not  rope  some  one  else  in.  But  I  said  t'  myself, 
'  If  Sandy  follers  Hans,  that  will  mean  that  what 
I  suspicioned  is  true.'  So  now  I  can  tell  ye." 

Lucky  clasped  his  hands  about  his  knees,  and 
stared  across  the  valley  at  Sandy  a  moment  before 
he  began.  "  Ye  see  they  ain't  much  t'  tell  that's 
sartin  ;  so  I'll  jest  go  over  the  thing  as  it  was. 
Last  October  Fred  Holzworth  showed  up  down  in 
Thermopolis.  Ye  know  where  that  is — over  on  the 
Big  Horn  River.  He  didn't  say  where  he  was 
headed  fer,  but  hired  bosses,  packed  'em  up,  and 
hiked  out  in  the  night — nobody  knew  where  to. 
A  couple  of  weeks  after,  the  hosses,  his  saddle 
boss  and  the  others,  come  a-stragglin'  back  t'  the 
ranch  where  he  got  'em.  That  didn't  set  no  one  t' 
guessin'.  Everybody  knew  that  Fred  had  laid  by 
his  winter  store,  and  was  som'ers  around  in  a  thou 
sand  square  mile  of  mount'in  workin'.  About 
seven  weeks  ago,  when  I  was  down  t'  Meeteetse, 
the  Miners'  Camp  stage  brought  'im  in,  and 
dumped  'im  at  the  Weller  House.  He  was  a  long 

77 


ROSS    GRANT 

ways  toward  passin'  in  his  time,  and  I  took  care  of 
'im."  Here  Lucky  bent,  and  examined  the  buckle 
on  his  high  mountain  shoe. 

"  I'd  been  prospectin'  with  Fred  off  V  on  ten 
years  ago  back  in  Colorado.  We've  been  pards  in 
many  a  deal,  and  so  I  took  care  of  'im.  He  didn't 
say  where  he'd  been,  and  I  didn't  ask  4m,  of 
course  ;  but  he  give  me  to  understand  that  he'd 
struck  it  rich  up  here  in  the  Shoshones  som'ers. 
There  was  no  way  of  findin'  out  where,  even  if  I'd 
wanted  t'  mind  what  was  none  of  my  business. 
The  stage  had  picked  'im  up  on  the  lower  ford, 
and  so  he  might  'a'  come  down  Wood  River  or 
Bear  Crick  or  Owl  Crick  or  South  Fork  or  Middle 
Fork.  And  he  was  on  snow-shoes,  and  was  packin' 
along  blankets  and  grub,  a  back-load,  so  he  might 
V  come  a  matter  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  mile 
beyond  the  lower  ford.  I  jest  took  what  he  told 
me,  and  asked  nothin'." 

Another  pause  ensued.  Sandy  and  Waymart 
pulled  the  tent  ropes  taut,  and  made  them  fast  to 
the  trees.  The  horses,  with  hobbles  on  their  fore 
legs,  but  relieved  from  the  galling  wooden  pack- 
saddles,  joined  the  other  animals  feeding  in  the 
sunshine. 

"  He  told  me  about  Hans,"  Lucky  went  on, 
"  and  told  me  that  all  that  he'd  found  was  t'  go  t3 
Hans.  He  said  his  brother  was  a-comin'  here  t' 

78 


GOLD   HUNTER 

be  with  'im.  He  had  an  address.  It  was  in  New 
York.  His  brother  was  t'  come  there  from  th'  old 
country.  He  said  he  was  writin'  t'  him  all  about 
it.  And  he  said,  '  Lucky,  when  he  comes,  you 
take  care  of  'im,  for  he's  naught  but  a  boy.'  Them 
was  his  words,  '  Lucky,  you  take  care  of  'im.' " 
The  man  paused,  and  looked  at  Trigger's  shack. 
"  He'd  set  up  in  bed,  and  write  a  lot.  Then  he'd 
make  marks  like  this." 

Lucky  stooped,  and  drew  a  stick  along  on  the 
ground.  The  end  made  a  line  with  many  angles 
and  turns  and  curves.  Finally  he  straightened 
himself  and  continued  : 

"  At  last  he  got  whatever  he  was  doin'  t'  suit 
'im,  and  then  his  hand  was  too  weak  t'  do  more  ; 
so  I  got  an  envelope,  and  writ  down  the  direction, 
and  licked  the  flap  myself,  and  hiked  over  t'  the 
post-office.  And  here's  where  Sandy  gits  in. 
Sandy's  generally  where  he  hadn't  no  business  t' 
be." 

A  scowl  settled  again  on  Lucky's  face  which  had 
softened  at  the  memory  of  Fred  Holzworth. 

"  Sandy  had  pushed  int'  Fred's  room  some  when 
I  couldn't  nowise  keep  'im  out,  and  I  suspect  he 
heard  things  said.  Ye  know  Sandy.  Ye  know 
how  he  can  make  folks  laugh.  Ye  know  ye  almost 
like  'im  when  all  the  time  ye  feel  he'd  ought  t'  be 
under  lock  and  key." 

79 


ROSS    GRANT 

Ross  nodded.  "  That's  Sandy  clear  down  to  the 
ground." 

"  Wall,  Fred  felt  that  way  about  'im  ;  but  he 
pushed  in,  and  the  day  I  come  back  from  the  office 
I  found  4m  standin'  beside  Fred,  talkin'  as  chipper 
as  ye  please,  but  a-eyin'  a  paper  that  was  on  the  bed 
— this  paper." 

Lucky  turned  away  from  the  two  beside  the 
creek,  and,  drawing  a  paper  from  his  breast  pocket, 
unfolded  it.  There  was  a  line  drawn  full  of  turns 
and  angles,  with  dots  and  names  on  either  side.  At 
one  end  of  the  line  was  Cody.  Following  this 
were  "  Meeteetse,"  "  M-bar  Ranch,"  "  Upper  Ford," 
"  South  Fork,"  and  then — here  Ross  gave  an  ex 
cited  exclamation — "  Elk  Pass." 

"  Is  Fred's  find  right  here  ?  "  he  cried. 

Lucky  shook  his  head  decidedly.  "  No.  Do 
you  see  ?  He  made  a  mistake  here  with  his  map, 
and  threw  it  away.  He  put  th'  Pass  on  th'  wrong 
side  of  the  line.  Ye  see  he  was  a-fixin'  a  sure  trail 
fer  Hans  to  foller,  and  he  couldn't  let  no  mistake 
stand.  So  he  laid  this  by,  and  made  another." 
Lucky  nodded  toward  the  sick  man's  shack. 
"  That's  the  one  in  that  there  letter.  The  envelope 
has  my  writin'  on  it." 

"  Then,"  asked  Ross,  "  all  that  Sandy  saw  was 
this  paper  ?  " 

"  That's  all,  but  that's  enough.  He  must  suspect 

80 


GOLD   HUNTER 

what's  inside  that  letter  after  what  I  think  he 
overheard  ;  and,  Doc,  don't  ye  fergit  that  he's  here 
to  make  sure  he's  right  and  act  on  what  he  finds 
out." 

"How  could  he  act  on  it?"  asked  Ross. 
"What  could  he  do?" 

"It's  likely,"  returned  Lucky  slowly,  "that 
Fred  in  his  diggin'  run  on  a  pocket  of  good  gold- 
bearin'  ore.  And  it's  more'n  likely  that  after  he 
found  it  he  was  too  weak  to  go  on  with  the  work. 
So,  if  Sandy  could  beat  Hans  to  it,  he  could  jump 
the  claim,  because  Fred  had  t'  come  away  before 
he  got  a  year's  work  done  on  it,  accordin'  to  law, 
ye  see.  He  told  me  that  much.  Oh,  there's 
more'n  one  way  that  Sandy  has  found  to  beat  th' 
law  and  claim-stakers !  Sandy  never  does  things 
ag'in'  the  law.  He  always  keeps  out  of  its 
clutches,"  bitterly.  "  Sandy,  he's  smart.  No  mat 
ter  what  ye  think  about  'im,  he's  smart." 

Ross  assented  grimly.  "  Smart !  I've  found  that 
out  by  experience.  I've  seen  too  much  of  his 
smartness  myself.  Of  course  you  heard  about  it — 
what  he  did  to  me  last  winter?  " 

Lucky  lowered  his  gaze  from  the  top  of  Elk. 
"  Yes,  I  heerd,"  he  admitted,  adding,  "  I  heerd, 
too,  what  ye  did  t'  him,  Doc.  Ye  ain't  s7  slow  as 
ye'd  have  folks  believe.  I'm  dependin'  on  ye  in 
this  matter."  Then  he  drew  a  long  breath  and 

81 


ROSS    GRANT 

squared  his  shoulders.     "  Doc,  we  mustn't  let  'im 
git  his  hands  on  that  letter." 

At  that  moment  a  shout  sounded  from  the  en 
trance  to  the  Pass.  Trigger  and  the  Toddler  were 
coming  from  their  work  followed  by  Nicholas. 
They  had  discovered  the  McKenzies,  and  the  wel 
coming  shout  came  from  Trigger,  who  knew  them 
but  slightly.  And  a  slight  acquaintance  with  the 
good-natured,  witty  Sandy  was  apt  to  cause  a 
hearty  welcome. 

"  We  never  look  fer  any  one  t'  come  to  the  Pass, 
but  ye  always  git  what  ye're  not  lookin'  fer  in  this 
world,  I  notice !  "  Trigger  shouted. 

"  And  sometimes  what  ye  find  is  better'n  what  ye 
look  fer,  and  sometimes  it's  worse,"  yelled  Sandy. 

Lucky  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets  with  a 
sudden  exclamation.  "  Mostly  worse  where  you 
are  concerned,"  he  said  under  his  breath. 

The  Toddler  waddled  forward  in  his  own  time. 
Nothing  could  hurry  Tod.  "  What  don't  you  see 
when  you  haven't  your  gun  along  and  feel  like 
shootin'  ? "  he  observed  non-committally  with  a 
broad  grin. 

Sandy  waved  his  cap  gayly  as  he  made  answer. 
"  The  very  biggest  kind  of  game. — But  say,  Tod, 
where  did  ye  drop  all  of  yer  weight  ?  Seems  like 
I  never  seen  such  a  fairy  figger  as  you've  got  on 
ye  right  now  1 " 

82 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  Dropped  it  in  the  same  place  where  you  lost 
your  gift  for  gab ! "  returned  the  fat,  good-natured 
Toddler  unconcernedly,  while  even  Waymart,  sit 
ting  on  his  heels  smoking,  grinned. 

Trigger  threw  his  cap  into  the  air  delightedly. 
Instantly  the  Monkey  darted  forward,  and  even 
as  Trigger's  hands  were  raised  to  receive  the  cap, 
the  boy  leaped  and  caught  it,  inverted  himself, 
and  amid  a  confusion  of  laughter,  held  his  prize 
on  one  foot  toward  the  owner. 

With  the  cap  perched  on  the  back  of  his 
head  Trigger,  raising  his  voice  in  order  to  be 
heard,  shouted  :  "  Say  there,  McKenzie  !  I'm  glad 
Tod's  got  another  whetstun  'sides  me  t'  sharpen 
his  tongue  ag'in'.  I'm  all  wore  down  smooth 


now." 


"Smooth!"  scoffed  Tod.  "  You're  about  as 
smooth  as  a  cactus.  An  old  fellow  over  in  Scot 
land,  Trig,  said  something  on  purpose  for  you. 
He  said  it  a  few  years  back — forgot  just  when,  but 
it  hits  you  broadsides,  head  on  !  " 

"  Shucks ! "  exclaimed  Trigger  incredulously,  yet 
curiously.  "  Spit  it  out." 

Tod  removed  his  cap  and  scratched  his  head 
thoughtfully.  "  It  ran  like  this  in  plain  United 
States  :  l  O  would  some  power  the  gift  but  give  us, 
to  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us '  " 

"  That  old  saw  ! "  yelled  Trigger  interrupting. 

83 


ROSS    GRANT 

11  A  Scotchman  said  it,  did  he?  Wall,  he  never  I 
A  little  schoolma'am  back  in  Missouri  used  to  git 
that  off  every  day.  I  went  to  her  when  I  was 
only  knee-high  to  a  grasshopper.  Scotchman — I 
guess !  And  she  didn't  say  it  about  me,  neither. 
She  told  me  to  pack  it  around  with  me  till  I  met 
up  with  a  feller  called  Tod  and  turn  it  loose  on 
'im,  but  I'd  clean  forgot  it !  " 

After  this  series  of  personal  drives,  made  pos 
sible  by  Tod's  unfailing  good  nature,  Trigger 
asked  suddenly  : 

"  What's  struck  you  fellers  to  come  along  up 
here  ?  "  He  looked  from  Waymart  to  Sandy  as 
he  spoke. 

Waymart,  according  to  his  custom,  made  no  re 
ply.  Sandy  replied  flippantly  :  "  Nothings  struck 
us.  We've  come  t'  do  the  strikin'  ourselves  !  " 
Then  he  turned  at  once  to  the  Monkey,  asking : 
"  What  new  tricks  have  ye  got  up  yer  sleeve  be 
side  the  one  we  jest  seen  ?  " 

Without  troubling  to  reply  verbally,  Nicholas 
again  cast  himself  on  his  head  and  walked  toward 
them  rapidly  on  his  hands,  his  feet  in  the  air 
curved  over  his  head.  As  the  shout  of  approval 
for  this  performance  died  away,  his  head  and  feet 
unexpectedly  changed  places  momentarily  and  he 
still  advanced  by  a  series  of  handsprings. 

"  There  !  "  he  exclaimed  breathlessly.  "  You 

84 


GOLD    HUNTER 

fellows  can  strike  gold  in  one  way,  but  I  can  in 
another — as  soon  as  Dad's  willing !  " 

As  Tod  and  Trigger  followed  the  acrobat  into 
the  little  tent,  Lucky  arose  and  entered  Tod's 
shack.  It  was  his  turn  to  "  rustle  grub  for  the 
outfit."  Since  Hans  had  come  among  theni  the 
three  men  had  combined  their  housekeeping  forces. 

Ross  retired  to  the  side  of  Hans'  bunk,  where 
for  a  half  hour  he  labored  with  the  sick  man  and 
his  defective  German  sentences.  From  the  half- 
hour's  labor  he  entered  Tod's  shack  discouraged, 
and  found  Lucky  wrestling  with  the  supper. 

"  It's  no  use,"  Ross  told  him  in  a  low  discour 
aged  tone,  "  I  can't  get  hold  of  the  letter.  I  made 
him  understand  that  he  must  not  try  to  use  his 
eye,  and  that  I'd  lock  the  letter  up  if  he  valued  it, 
and  so  forth.  But  I  saw  it  made  no  impression  on 
him.  He  won't  give  it  up,  and  of  course  I  can't 
take  it  by  force.  I've  no  right  to.  And  another 
thing :  if  I  should  try  to  get  it  against  his  will  it 
would  excite  him  and  up  his  temperature  would 
go.  That  wouldn't  do.  Besides,  it  would  lead 
him  to  distrust  me,  and  that  would  make  him 
worse  in  itself.  I've  been  trying  to  think,"  Ross 
added,  "how  queer  it  must  feel  to  be  a  stranger 
among  a  strange  people,  sick,  and  not  able  to 
understand  us." 

"  Jest  so,"  assented  Lucky,  "  and  I've  been 

85 


ROSS    GRANT 

thinkin'  all  along  what  a  fool  thing  fer  'im  to  hike 
out  alone.  But  I  s'pose  he  didn't  trust  the  folks 
down  in  the  valley  that  speak  his  lingo  any  more 
than  he  does  us.  Where  gold  is  concerned  " — 
Lucky  paused  and  shook  his  head — "  seems  like 
folks  is  scurse  that  can  be  trusted."  Then  he 
turned  earnestly  on  Ross  :  "  Doc,  I  can  use  my 
hands  better'n  my  head.  Can't  ye  think  of  a 
way  out?" 

"  I  can't  now,"  Ross  returned,  "  but  I'll  keep  on 
thinking — and  watching.  And  say  !  Strikes  me 
that  it's  a  pretty  good  thing  to  have  the  Monkey 
here.  I'll  keep  him  with  me  so  you  can  go  on 
with  your  work  same  as  usual." 

Lucky  hesitated.  "  But,  Doc,  the  fewer  that 
know " 

"  He  needn't  know  a  thing,"  interrupted  Ross. 
"  I'll  remember  that.  But  he's  quick  as  a  cat — or 
Sandy — and  handy  to  have  around  to  go  after 
water  and  help  hold  the  fort  generally.  You 
couldn't  half  work  if  you  had  to  watch  out  con 
tinually  for  that  towel.  And  you're  not  up  in 
your  work,  Tod  says." 

"  No,  I  ain't."  Lucky  looked  uneasily  toward 
the  tent.  "  You  know,  of  course,  that  the  law  gives 
a  claim-staker  five  years  to  do  the  development 
work  in,  and  my  fifth  year  is  up  this  summer  and 
I  ain't  done  nigh  all  the  work." 

86 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"That's  a  bad  outlook,"  muttered  Ross,  his 
glance  following  Lucky's  to  the  tent.  "  A  bad 
outlook  with  a  professional  claim  jumper  at  your 
door !  " 

"  He's  after  bigger  game,"  shrugged  Lucky. 
"  My  claim  ain't  pannin'  out  any  good  dirt — the 
assay  shows  only  a  trace  of  gold  now,  and  it  hain't 
done  any  better  in  weeks." 

The  term  "  trace  of  gold,"  as  Ross  knew,  was 
applied  to  ore  that  yielded  so  little  gold  to  the  ton 
as  not  to  be  worth  handling. 

"  No,"  Lucky  continued,  "  when  Sandy  lays  out 
to  jump  a  claim  it's  a  claim  that's  got  somethin' 
worth  while  corralled  in  it !  " 

"And  I  understand  that  he  always  jumps  the 
claim  so  the  law  can't  jump  on  him,"  added 
Ross. 

"  You  bet ! "  exclaimed  Lucky  forcefully. 
"Sandy  has  studied  the  law  of  Wyomin'  ever 
since  we  took  t'  livin'  under  a  law  here  instid 
of  behind  a  gun.  It's  more  comfortable  livin',  by 
and  large  now,  but  a  gun  'ud  do  better  work 
where  he's  concerned — but  Sandy  sure  knows  the 
law  when  it  comes  to  minin'  in  this  state,  and  he 
never  runs  agin  the  law.  He  jest  dodges  in  and 
out  among  it  and  takes  what  he  wants,  and  gets 
shet  of  juries  !  " 

Ross  laughed.  "  He  didn't  take  what  he  wanted 

87 


ROSS    GRANT 

last  winter !  That  was  one  time  Sandy  was  fooled 
and,  Lucky,  let's  make  this  another  time  !  " 

Lucky  impulsively  extended  his  hand.  "  I'm 
more  than  willin',  Doc — I'm  almighty  anxious  !  " 

The  evening  was  uneventful  so  far  as  Sandy  was 
concerned.  He  and  Waymart  completed  their 
household  arrangements  by  setting  up  a  tiny  sheet- 
iron  stove  beside  a  scrub  hemlock  and  wiring  the 
stovepipe  to  the  trunk.  On  this  diminutive  cooker 
Sandy  gayly  baked  flapjacks  and  fried  ham,  Way- 
mart  resting  from  his  more  arduous  labors. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  has  struck  the  McKen- 
zies?"  Tod  asked  Lucky  facetiously  as  Trigger 
and  Nicholas,  drawn  by  the  cook's  gayety,  had  de 
parted  after  supper  to  the  tent.  "  Whose  claims 
has  he  got  an  eye  glued  to  now,  yours  or  mine  ?  " 

Lucky  shook  his  head.  "  Ye  can't  tell  till  he's 
jumped  'em." 

Tod  laughed,  and  shrugged  his  fat  shoulders. 
"  No  jumpin'  mine.  Not  even  Sandy  could  find  a 
flaw  in  the  amount  of  work  done.  Maybe  he 
means  to  turn  genuine  worker  himself." 

"  Mebby  !  "  drawled  Lucky  unbelievingly. 

That  night  he  again  stayed  with  Ross  and  Hans 
in  Trigger's  cabin. 

The  following  morning  Sandy  and  Waymart 
made  a  brave  showing  as  prospectors.  Each  was 
armed  with  the  usual  outfit  of  the  professional 

88 


GOLD    HUNTER 

prospector,  hammer,  pick,  microscope  and  blow 
pipe  with  some  charcoal  for  doing  rough  assaying 
on  the  spot  of  the  find.  Sandy  had,  in  addition, 
a  large  new  field-glass  strapped  over  his  shoulder. 
Thus  accoutered,  the  two  tramped  away  through 
the  Pass  and  up  the  canon  on  the  other  side  of  the 
range  into  regions  which  had  long  since  been 
picked  over  and  found  wanting  in  ore  of  any 
value.  After  they  had  disappeared,  Lucky  fol 
lowed  Trigger  and  the  Toddler  up  the  side  of  Elk, 
leaving  Nicholas  with  Ross. 

"  Don't  fergit  t'  hang  out  th'  towel  in  case 
Sandy  comes  back,"  Lucky  cautioned  Ross.  "  If 
it  wa'n't  fer  the  fact  that  I  ain't  any  too  fer  along 
with  my  work,  I'd  bide  right  here  with  ye." 

"  I'm  sure  there's  no  use  of  that,"  returned  Ross 
confidently,  "  as  long  as  Nick  and  I  are  both  here." 

"  I  hope,"  ventured  Lucky  suggestively,  "  that 
ye  won't  fergit  t'  think  up  a  way  out." 

But  Ross  forgot  the  letter,  so  much  engrossed 
did  he  become  in  the  younger  boy's  scout  practise. 
After  giving  Hans  all  necessary  attention,  he 
came  out  in  front  of  the  cabin  and  seated  himself 
on  one  of  the  rocks  that  sowed  the  mountainside 
thickly  and  had  rolled  down  into  the  valley  beside 
the  cabins.  From  this  post  of  observation  he 
could  both  keep  an  eye  on  Hans  and  watch  the 
curious  manceuvers  of  the  Monkey.  Nicholas 

89 


ROSS    GRANT 

was  industriously  traveling  from  the  South  Fork 
to  various  points  in  the  little  valley  with  his  eyes 
blindfolded.  He  accompanied  these  journeys  with 
various  maneuvers.  He  would  stand  and  listen 
intently.  Then,  whirling  rapidly  about,  he  would 
start  off  walking,  finding  his  direction  again  by 
the  wind,  or  the  heat  from  the  sun  or  the  sounds 
about  him,  or  running,  stopping  occasionally  to 
whirl  again,  and  listen.  He  went  straight  to  his 
packhorse  as  it  grazed  a  few  feet  from  Ross.  Then 
he  made  a  circuit  of  the  cabins  and  clambered 
among  the  rocks  piled  up  behind  Trigger's.  Next 
he  groped  for  the  water  pail,  found  his  way 
through  the  tangle  of  quaking  asp  bushes  to  the 
water  hole  and  back  again  with  a  full  pail.  At 
last  he  unbandaged  his  eyes  and  dropped  down 
beside  Ross  panting. 

"  Now,"  said  the  latter,  "  tell  me  what  you  were 
up  to  ?  " 

"  Training  my  senses  so  I  can  scout  better," 
returned  Nicholas  promptly.  He  stretched  out 
his  thin,  leather-clad  legs  and  opened  his  gaudy 
red  shirt  comfortably.  "  You  know,  Doc,"  he  con 
tinued  wisely,  "  we  use  our  eyes  instead  of  our 
ears  and  nose  and  touch  until  what  we  don't  see 
we  don't  know.  Colonel  Cody  was  talking  with 
Dad  about  that  last  time  I  saw  'im.  He  said  the 
old  Indian  scouts  used  to  use  all  their  senses  like  a 

90 


GOLD    HUNTER 

dog,  only  better.  Even  the  dogs,"  in  a  tone  of  dis 
gust,  "  are  civilized  now  out  of  their  senses,  Dad 
says  !  Why,  old  Still  Foot— ever  see  Still  Foot  ?  " 

Ross  shook  his  head. 

"  Well,  he's  an  old  Injun  from  the  Shoshone 
Reservation.  He  can  smell  elk  a  mile  away  if  the 
wind  is  right.  And  he'll  be  lying  with  his  blan 
ket  wrapped  around  'im  beside  a  trail  and  sud 
denly  he'll  say,  '  White  man  comes.'  And  there'll 
be  a  man  comin'  sure  enough,  a  mile  away.  And 
Still  Foot  knows,  and  knows  it  ain't  an  Injun  by 
the  way  he  rides  !  He  hears  through  the  ground. 
So  I'm  practisin'  to  get  back  the  use  of  my  senses." 

"  Say,  Nick,"  Ross  exclaimed  in  admiration,  "  I 
wish  I  had  your  perseverance." 

The  boy  pushed  his  shock  of  hair  out  of  his 
eyes  and  looked  up  with  a  shrewd  smile.  "  I 
guess  you've  got  as  much  perseverance  with  bones 
as  I  have  with  senses."  Here  he  scrambled  to  his 
feet  with  a  shiver.  "  D'ye  know  we're  in  the 
shade  here.  Come  around  to  the  other  side  of 
Tod's  cabin  in  the  sun  so  I  can  dry  off." 

Ross  glanced  through  the  doorway  behind  him 
and  saw  that  Hans,  although  awake,  was  quiet. 
Then  he  followed  Nicholas  across  the  open  space 
between  the  two  cabins  and  around  Tod's  to  a 
rock  exposed  to  the  hot  rays  of  the  sun  and  shel 
tered  from  the  wind  that  blew  over  the  ice  fields 


ROSS    GRANT 

far  above  them.  The  Monkey  threw  himself 
down  on  the  warm  ground,  while  Ross  sat  on  the 
rock  and  leaned  against  the  cabin  wall.  Before 
him  was  Elk  Mountain.  At  his  left  the  South 
Fork  murmured  past.  From  all  about  came  the 
contented  munching  of  the  hobbled  horses.  A 
few  birds  chirped  near  them,  tiny,  brown-coated 
songless  sparrows,  flitting  saucily  from  sage-bush 
to  sage-bush.  They  were  the  only  birds  hardy 
enough  to  brave  the  altitude  and  temperature  of 
the  higher  mountains. 

Ross,  resting  easily  against  the  logs,  kept  a  sharp 
outlook  on  the  Pass,  determined  that  Sandy  should 
not  return  unnoticed.  Nicholas  pillowed  his  head 
on  his  clasped  hands  and  talked  of  Dad  and  Colo 
nel  Cody  and  the  old  days  in  Wyoming  when 
those  men  were  young  and  wore  six  shooters  dan 
gling  at  their  hips. 

"  I  wish  I  had  lived  then,"  said  the  boy  linger- 
ingly.  "  You  ought  to  hear  Buffalo  Bill  and  Dad 
talk.  Of  course  Dad's  much  younger,  but  he  can 
remember  when  buffaloes  ranged  over  Big  Horn 
Valley  and  wolves  and  bears  were  as  plenty  around 
the  valley  as  cattle  are  now.  In  those  days  no 
body  bothered  much  about  these  mountains — 
didn't  know  there  was  ore  up  here  or  anything. 
You  see  there  wasn't  a  sign  of  a  railroad  in  north 
ern  Wyoming  twenty  years  ago,  and  Cody  was 

92 


GOLD    HUNTER 

just  a  cowboy  town — and  Meeteetse  a  group  of 
saloons.  Wouldn't  you  have  liked  it  here  then, 
Doc?" 

Ross  shook  his  head  reflectively.  "  Honestly, 
Nick,  no.  I  guess  I'm  not  much  of  a  sport.  I'd 
hate  to  see  a  buffalo  loose,  and  when  I  heard  the 
wolves  on  the  top  of  the  shack  last  winter " — 
he  stopped  and  smoothed  his  hair  down  thought 
fully — "  well,  I  thought  the  roots  of  my  hair  were 
all  turned  the  wrong  way  for  keeps  !  " 

The  younger  boy  chuckled.  He  rolled  over  on 
his  side  and  supported  his  head  on  his  hand,  his 
elbow  bent;  "  I  met  a  bear  all  right  one  day  when 
I  was  going  over  beyond  Wood  River  Canon  toward 
the  Yellowstone,  that  is,  I  would  have  met  it  if 
Spot  had  let  me." 

"  What  did  you  do?"  asked  Ross  eagerly. 

"Do?"  cried  Nick  ruefully.  "I  didn't  have 
time  nor  a  chance  to  do  a  thing  but  hang  on  Spot 
for  dear  life.  Spot  did  every  blamed  thing  that 
was  done !  He  smelled  the  bear  before  I  saw  'im 
and  the  way  he  turned  tail  and  tore  down  the 
trail  made  my  hair  stand  on  end  too  ;  the  wind 
attended  to  that.  I  never  had  so  much  trouble 
stickin'  to  a  blanket  before  or  since.  You  know 
a  horse  hates  the  smell  of  a  bear." 

"  But  you  weren't  afraid  !  "  exclaimed  Ross  ad 
miringly. 

93 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Afraid  ?  I  didn't  have  any  chance  to  find  out 
whether  I  was  or  not.  I  guess  the  bear  ran  as  fast 
up  the  canon  as  Spot  did  down  it  from  the  looks 
of  a  quaking  asp  thicket  that  grew  above  where  he 
was  sunning  himself." 

"  I  should  be  too  scared  to  stick  on  a  saddle 
even,"  said  Ross  frankly,  "  unless  I  was  tied  on  ! " 

"  Well,  that  was  one  time  I  did  wish  a  saddle 
was  under  me.  Of  course  I  don't  use  one,  because 
you  can't  do  stunts  from  a  saddle.  None  of  the 
fellows  in  the  Wild  West  Show  use  'em  in  fancy 
riding,  and  that's  what  I'm  practising." 

Suddenly  the  Monkey  paused  and  lay  flat,  with 
one  ear  pressed  to  the  earth.  Then  with  a  finger 
upraised  at  Ross  he  talked  on  at  random.  Finally 
he  projected  the  information  into  his  remarks  that 
a  "  white  man  comes,"  at  the  same  time  getting 
noiselessly  on  his  feet  and  motioning  toward  the 
cabin  at  Ross's  back.  With  a  finger  on  his  lips  he 
stole  soundlessly  around  the  corner  of  the  shack, 
followed  by  Ross,  whose  alarm  was  instantly  stirred. 
Past  Tod's  cabin  and  across  into  the  space  be 
tween  the  two,  Nicholas  stole  softly  around  be 
hind  Trigger's  shack.  Ross,  abandoning  caution, 
sprang  in  alarm  for  the  doorway  and  looked  anx 
iously  within.  At  the  same  time  the  Monkey's 
triumphant  voice  reached  him  from  behind  the 
cabin : 

94 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  Hey,  there,  McKenzie  I  I  told  Doc  that  a 
'  white  man  comes/  and  sure  enough  !  My  hear 
ing  hasn't  turned  up  missin'.  Now  this  is  what 
I  get  by  training  my  senses  1 " 


95 


CHAPTER  V 

A   GLIMPSE   OF   THE   LETTER 

Ross  lost  Sandy's  reply  in  his  efforts  to  quiet  the 
alarmed  invalid.  Hans  had  just  drawn  the  envel 
ope  from  under  his  shirt  as  Ross  appeared,  and 
now  he  thrust  it  hurriedly  back  with  a  startled 
"  Hein  !  "  at  the  unexpected  change  from  silence 
to  confusion.  When,  at  last,  the  embryo  physi 
cian  had  time  to  take  observations  from  the  cabin 
door,  he  saw  Sandy  walking  rapidly  across  the 
valley  toward  his  tent,  while  Nicholas  was  re 
turning,  having  accompanied  him  half-way,  ex 
plaining  eagerly  his  scouting  methods. 

"  Say,  Doc,"  said  the  boy  meditatively  when  he 
stood  before  Ross,  "  what  d'ye  suppose  Sandy  was 
up  to  ?  " 

Ross  moved  uneasily  and  muttered,  "  Oh,  'most 
anything  !  He's  always  up  to  something  he  ought 
not  to  be  !  " 

"  That's  so,"  affirmed  Nicholas  with  conviction. 
He  turned  and  looked  at  the  tent,  throwing  his 
hair  back  with  a  light  gesture.  "  He  certainly 
was  taken  by  surprise  that  time,"  with  a  chuckle. 
"  I  never  saw  him  taken  off  his  guard  before." 

96 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  What  was  he  doing  ?  "  asked  Ross  anxiously. 

"  Huh !  He  was  just  stretching  up  to  take  a 
look  into  that  window.  The  sash  is  out,  I 
notice,  this  morning.  He'd  evidently  noticed  it 
too." 

"  Yes,  I  took  it  out  to  give  Hans  more  air." 

"  Well,  Sandy  saw  in  it  a  peep-hole.  But,  Doc, 
what  was  to  hinder  him  from  walking  in  and  look 
ing  at  Hans  aboveboard  ?  " 

Again  Ross  moved  uneasily,  and  looked  behind 
him  at  the  sashless  window.  "  That's  Sandy.  He's 
a  sneak." 

Nicholas  assented.  "  But  he  always  has  an  ob 
ject  in  his  sneaking,  and  I  know  by  the  way  he 
acted — awfully  taken  aback  he  was — that  he  has 
an  object  now.  Of  course,  he  pulled  himself  to 
gether  quick  and  said  offhand  that  Hans  looked 
funny  enough  with  that  bandage  over  his  eye,  and 
that  he,  Sandy,  happened  to  be  passing  on  his  way 
to  the  tent  after  more  charcoal  for  the  blow-pipe — 
but  you  can't  fool  me !  Say,  Doc,"  here  Nicholas 
turned  and  looked  at  the  other  in  his  shrewd  way, 
his  small  face  screwed  up  into  a  knot,  "  I'll  bet  that 
Hans  has  something  that  Sandy  wants — hey  ?  " 

Ross's  eyes  fell,  and  his  face  turned  red. 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  accused  Nicholas  pointing  a  trium 
phant  finger.  "  You  know,  and  your  face  gives 
you  away." 

97 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  It  usually  does,"  Ross  blurted  out,  becoming 
still  redder. 

"What  is  the  something?"  demanded  Nicholas. 

"  I — I  can't  tell,  Nick  ;  but  now  keep  still  with 
that  guess  before  everybody,  and  help  me  keep 
Sandy  and  Waymart  away  from  him,"  nodding 
toward  the  bunk.  "  We  can't  keep  'em  far  away, 
but  we  can  prevent  'em  from  being  left  alone  with 
him,  or  from  looking  through  the  window  or  any 
thing  like  that." 

The  Monkey's  bright  blue  eyes  sparkled.  He 
turned  a  double  somersault  and  stood  on  his  head. 
"  It's  me  for  some  real  scouting  then  !  "  he  ex 
claimed  delightedly.  "  I'll  get  under  Sandy's  skin. 
I  did  just  now.  Hooray  !  I'll  do  more  than  tell 
'im  how  it  pays  to  cultivate  the  senses  !  " 

Ross  went  back  to  Hans  with  a  guilty  feeling  of 
neglect  and  failure.  "  The  Monkey  saved  the 
day  !  "  he  told  himself  ruefully  as  he  observed  that 
the  window  was  only  a  couple  of  feet  from  the 
head  of  the  sick  man's  bunk.  "  Stupidity  is  an 
awfully  hard  disease  to  cure,"  he  said  bitterly  as 
he  replaced  the  sash  in  the  window  and  nailed  it 
in. 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  the  Monkey,"  he  confessed 
frankly  to  Lucky  that  night,  "  Sandy  would  have 
had  the  letter.  Hans  had  it  out  and  all  Sandy  had 
to  do  was  to  reach  in  and  grab  it  and  make  off 

98 


GOLD    HUNTER 

while  I  sat  on  the  other  side  of  Tod's  cabin  watch 
ing  the  Pass  I  "  disgustedly.  "  I  wish  I  could  grab 
it  myself  and  lock  it  up,  but  I'm  afraid  of  the  re 
sult.  It  would  probably  play  the  mischief  with 
his  fever.  I  don't  dare  go  that  far." 

Lucky  was  in  Trigger's  cabin  aiding  in  the 
bandaging  of  Hans'  face  when  Ross  told  him  this. 
He  pressed  his  bearded  lips  together  for  a  moment 
in  a  perplexed  silence  and  then  said  hesitatingly, 
"  Doc,  there's  no  way  to  git  ahead  of  Sandy — and 
be  sure  ye're  ahead — only  by  gittin'  that  letter 
under  lock  and  key  and  then  watchin7  the  lock." 

"  If  only  I  could  make  Hans  understand ! " 
groaned  Ross.  "  But  all  I  have  done  so  far  is  to 
excite  him  and  make  him  hang  to  that  envelope 
tighter  than  ever.  But  with  Nick  here,  and  in 
terested,"  hopefully,  "  we'll  baffle  Sandy  yet !  " 

Lucky  sighed,  and  that  sigh  said  that  Lucky 
had  more  confidence  in  Sandy's  ability  than  in  both 
boys',  although  he  left  the  cabin  without  further 
remonstrance.  But  he  left  Ross  full  of  the  re 
newed  determination  to  get  hold  of  that  letter.  "  I 
shall  make  Hans  understand  !  "  he  told  himself 
emphatically. 

That  night,  however,  the  sick  man  was  alarm 
ingly  worse  because  of  the  fright  he  had  experi 
enced  in  the  morning,  and  Ross,  with  dismay, 
pointed  out  to  Lucky  the  result  of  agitating  him. 

99 


ROSS    GRANT 

The  boy  was  up  with  his  patient  the  greater  part 
of  the  night,  but  when  day  broke,  both  nurse  and 
patient  slept. 

Late  in  the  morning  Ross  awoke.  Hans  still 
slept.  The  valley  was  quiet.  Lucky  sat  motion 
less  in  the  doorway.  There  was  a  slight  stir  in 
the  other  shack.  Ross  crept  out  of  his  bunk  and 
rubbed  his  eyes  open.  Silently,  Lucky,  observing 
him,  departed  for  the  water  hole  with  the  pails. 
Ross  stole  across  the  floor  and  over  to  Tod's  cabin. 
There  Nicholas  was  stuffing  wood  into  the  stove 
and  baking  bread.  He  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  when 
he  saw  Ross. 

"  See  here,  Doc !  I'm  glad  you're  awake. 
How's  Hans?  If  I  have  to  keep  still  much 
longer  I'll  bust  I  " 

Ross  sat  down  on  a  bench,  still  yawning. 
"  Don't  bust  till  you  get  a  good  breakfast  for  me, 
and  keep  still  a  while  longer !  Hans  may  sleep 
an  hour  yet.  I  hope  so.  Say !  We  mustn't  let 
Sandy  come  nosing  about  to-day  and  upset  him 
so,  or  I'll  lose  my  job." 

In  a  few  moments  the  youthful  physician  sat 
down  to  a  hot  breakfast,  while  Lucky,  having 
filled  the  water  pails,  prepared  to  start  for  his 
tunnel,  first  giving  a  long  look  around  the  land 
scape  which,  somewhere,  held  Sandy  and  Way- 
mart. 

100 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  Where  did  the  McKenzies  go  ?  "  asked  Ross. 

"  They  hiked  out  early  on  horseback  down  the 
South  Fork  trail.  They  packed  along  some  grub 
for  dinner,  but  that  don't  mean  you  won't  see  'em 
again  in  an  hour,"  Lucky  said  warningly. 

"  I'll  be  ready  and  waiting  for  'em  this  time," 
Ross  assured  him. 

The  Monkey  added  to  that  assurance.  "  I  can 
hear  Sandy  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,"  he  boasted. 
"  And  111  not  trust  to  hearing  either — I'll  see 
him." 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  boys  did  see  him.  He 
did  not  come  slyly  nor  under  cover.  Instead,  he 
rode  up  from  the  South  Fork  with  a  flourish,  fol 
lowed  by  Waymart,  and  stopped  outside  Trigger's 
cabin  with  a  shout. 

"  'Lo,  there,  Monkey,  you've  got  a  call  I  " 

Both  boys  appeared  in  the  doorway  of  the 
cabin.  Ross  had  just  finished  giving  Hans  his 
breakfast. 

"  What  kind  of  a  call  ?  "  asked  Nicholas. 

"  I  can  tell  you  what  kind  of  a  call,"  answered 
Sandy  with  a  jolly  laugh,  "  but  I  can't  tell  you 
the  kind  of  caller.  We  met  'im  on  the  trail  away 
back  there  this  mornin',"  nodding  toward  the 
South  Fork.  "  A  feller  that  can't  manage  our 
lingo  very  well — sort  of  short  and  dark  and 
wheezes  in  his  throat  when  he  talks." 

101 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Oh, — that  '  Daisy  '  Breitmann  ! "  exclaimed 
Nick.  "  It's  the  new  man  at  the  ranch  next  ours, 
the  U.  I  haven't  seen  him  but  once,  but  I've  not 
forgot  the  wheeze.  Short  and  dark — that's  Daisy. 
He  understands  English  all  right  if  she  is  spoken 
a  word  at  a  time,  but  he's  more  at  home  with  Ger 
man.  He  came  from  that  German  settlement  be 
yond  Cody.  Where  did  you  see  him  ?  " 

"  'Long  back  there.  He  asked  if  I  had  heard 
of  ye  and  when  I  said  ye  was  here,  he  said  t' 
tell  ye  yer  Dad  was  at  the  Lazy  Y  tryin'  t'  lo 
cate  ye." 

"  Now,  listen  to  that  I  "  exclaimed  Nicholas,  in 
a  disappointed  tone.  "  Dad  has  a  way  once  in  a 
while  of  turnin'  up  just  when  I  get  ready  to  settle 
down.  I  don't  want  to  go  now." 

Sandy  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  rode  on, 
shaking  a  long  forelock  from  his  eyes.  "  All 
right.  Suit  yerself.  I  was  asked  t'  git  shet  of 
that  word  t'  ye.  So  long.  Me  and  Mart  are  goin' 
to  hike  over  t'  near  Miners'  now." 

Sandy  and  his  brother  galloped  on.  The 
Monkey  turned  a  solemn  face  on  Ross. 

"  Say,  Doc,  it's  me  for  the  Lazy  Y  all  right,  all 
right,  if  Dad  has  called  !  What  possessed  that 
stupid  Daisy  to  run  into  Sandy  and  what  possessed 
him  to  think  that  Sandy  knew  where  I  am  ? 
Well,  you'll  have  to  trail  Sandy  alone  a  while. 

102 


GOLD   HUNTER 

Maybe  Dad  will  let  me  come  back  again  right 
away.  I'll  see." 

At  noon,  when  Lucky  came  down  from  the  side 
of  Elk,  he  found  Ross  getting  dinner. 

"  Where's  the  Monkey?"  he  asked,  Nicholas 
having  told  him  that  morning  not  to  worry  about 
"  grub  slinging." 

"  Gone,"  replied  Ross.  "  My  scout  was  sent  for. 
I'm  now  nurse,  doctor,  scout,  chief  cook  and  bottle 
washer." 

After  he  had  told  Lucky  the  circumstances 
under  which  his  scout  had  departed,  his  listener 
frowned. 

"  See  here,  Doc,  it  never  got  int'  the  heads  of 
either  of  ye  that  Sandy  made  that  up  out  of  hull 
cloth,  did  it?" 

A  basin  slipped  out  of  Ross's  hands  and  fell  to 
the  floor  with  a  clatter.  He  stared  at  Lucky 
speechless. 

"  Of  course,"  the  latter  continued,  "  it  sounds  as 
good  as  they  make  'em,  and  maybe  Dad  really  is 
on  the  outlook  fer  'im,  but  I  doubt  it.  Didn't 
Nick  tell  ye  that  Dad  expected  him  to  bide  up  in 
Miners'  while  he  was  gone  ?  " 

"Sure  enough  he  did,"  admitted  Ross.  "You 
see  it  did  sound  so  plausible  we  never  stopped  to 
question.  If  Dad  is  down  at  the  Lazy  Y,  all  he'd 
think  he  would  have  to  do  to  get  Nick  is  to  send 

103 


ROSS    GRANT 

up  t'  Miners'  by  Bill  Travers.  Of  course,  after  yes 
terday's  work,  Sandy  wanted  to  get  rid  of  the 
Monkey." 

"  And  he  has,"  commented  Lucky  briefly. 

"  But  Nick  said  he  was  coming  back,"  responded 
Ross  hopefully. 

After  dinner,  when  Lucky  went  up  to  his 
tunnel,  he  left  Ross  sitting  in  the  doorway 
of  Trigger's  cabin  laboring  again  with  his  Ger 
man  dictionary,  pencil  and  paper.  His  sentences 
now  contained  the  information,  imperfectly  con 
veyed,  that  Sandy  McKenzie  was  bent  on  getting 
the  letter.  But  to  Hans  the  name  of  Sandy  meant 
nothing,  while  it  was  a  terribly  clear  and  suspicious 
circumstance  that  Ross,  who  was  left  with  him 
constantly,  seemed  itching  for  possession  of  that 
same  epistle.  A  flood  of  excited  and  unintelligible 
language  was  one  of  the  results  immediately  follow 
ing  this  new  attempt  on  Ross's  part.  Another  re 
sult  Lucky  found  when  he  came  from  his  work  at 
six  o'clock. 

Ross  explained  in  a  discouraged  tone :  "  Hans 
has  been  delirious  now  for  two  hours  hanging  onto 
that  letter  and  talking  as  fast  as  he  can  talk.  I 
don't  see  any  way  to  get  it — or  to  keep  it  away 
from  him  rather.  Easy  enough  to  take  it  while 
he's  asleep.  That's  what  Sandy  is  laying  for,  prob- 
ably." 

IO4 


GOLD    HUNTER 

After  supper  Hans'  temperature  dropped  and  he 
fell  asleep.  Then  Lucky,  lighting  his  pipe,  sat 
down  in  the  doorway  of  the  shack  and  commanded 
Ross  to  "  stretch  his  legs."  Ross  availed  himself 
gladly  of  the  command,  as  he  had  taken  no  exer 
cise  that  day.  He  walked  briskly  through  the 
Pass,  and  faced  a  range  of  mountains  as  high  and 
black  and  forbidding  as  the  range  of  which  Elk 
was  a  part.  He  knew  that,  should  he  climb  this 
range,  another  yet  would  bar  his  progress,  and  yet 
another  before  he  could  listen  to  the  familiar  roar 
of  Wood  River  as  it  foamed  past  Miners'  Camp. 
He  drew  a  long  breath.  He  felt  the  oppression 
which  comes  to  a  stranger  among  the  peaks,  a  sense 
of  suffocation  despite  the  bracing  air,  a  conviction 
that  escape  from  the  embrace  of  the  mountains  is 
an  impossibility.  Turning  abruptly,  he  came  back 
to  a  sight  of  the  cabins  and  the  lazy  upcurling 
smoke  from  the  projecting  stovepipe  chimneys. 
Turning  to  the  trail  up  Elk,  he  climbed  the  worn 
path  until  he  came  to  Trigger's  tunnel.  As  he  ap 
proached,  he  heard  Trigger's  voice  excitedly  relating 
the  possibilities  of  wealth  penned  up  in  those 
mountains,  the  certainty  of  the  coming  of  the  Bur 
lington  road,  and  the  probability  of  the  building 
of  a  smelter.  It  was  one  of  Trigger's  optimistic 
days,  and  his  tones  soared  with  his  optimism. 

As  Ross  approached,  an  inquiry  from  Sandy  cut 

105 


ROSS    GRANT 

across  this  stream  of  talk.  "  Ye  hain't  told  me  yet 
about  Hans.  Does  Doc  take  care  of  'im  nights?  " 

Ross  stopped,  and  listened  for  the  reply. 

"  Doc's  there,  but  we  take  turns  stayin'  with  'im, 
too,  Todd  and  Lucky  and  I.  Doc's  got  to  sleep 
nights  s'  long  as  he  looks  out  fer  'im  days.  It's 
my  turn  to-night." 

Ross  listened  alertly,  but  could  hear  nothing 
more.  He  then  hurried  back  to  Lucky  and  re 
counted  the  incident.  "  I  see  how  Sandy  is  going 
to  work  it  for  the  letter,"  he  added  confidently. 
"  He's  going  to  insist  on  taking  his  turn  here  to 
night,  and  that  I,  as  head  nurse,  can  prevent.  He 
can't  work  that  game — not  much  !  " 

Lucky's  hands,  clasped  between  his  knees,  opened 
and  shut  slowly.  "  That  looks  likely,  Doc,  likely. 
We'll  wait  and  see." 

Then  he  sat,  his  pipe  smokeless,  and  stared  at 
his  hands,  his  thoughts  racing  ahead  of  his  words. 
"  We'll  see,  Doc,"  he  added  at  last.  "  But  ye  never 
can  be  sure  of  Sandy's  game  till  it's  played — and 


won." 


Presently  Sandy  and  Trigger  came  back  and 
joined  Waymart  and  Toddler  in  the  latter's  shack. 
Ross,  leaving  Lucky  smoking,  crossed  from  Trig 
ger's  cabin  and  sat  in  the  doorway  in  order  to  be 
on  hand  in  case  Sandy  should  volunteer  his  serv 
ices  as  nurse,  but  nursing  seemed  to  be  far  from  the 

106 


GOLD    HUNTER 

thoughts  of  everybody.  Sandy  was  "  picking  on  " 
the  Toddler,  whose  wits  were  working  nimbly  for 
the  entertainment  of  the  company.  Not  only  did 
Tod  never  lose  his  temper,  but  he  had  the  art  of 
indulging  in  pointed  repartee  in  a  likeable,  hu 
morous  way  that  robbed  the  truth  of  its  sting  and 
generally  amused  even  its  victims.  It  was  al 
ways  a  temptation  in  a  company  to  stir  him  into 
speech  to  see  what  he  would  say  and  how  near 
the  truth  he  dared  to  drive.  He  seldom  re 
sented  personal  gibes  directed  against  himself, 
claiming  merely  the  privilege  of  returning  them — 
with  interest. 

He  sat  on  a  box  near  the  stove,  his  back  planted 
comfortably  against  the  side  logs,  his  head  tipped 
back  and  his  eyes  resting  lazily  on  the  log,  dirt- 
chinked  roof.  Sandy  faced  him  on  another  box. 
Waymart  sat  on  the  table,  swinging  his  legs. 
Trigger,  restlessly  moving  about,  never  stayed 
many  moments  in  the  same  position. 

"  I  jest  dropped  in,  Tod,"  Sandy  was  saying,  "  t' 
git  yer  receipt  fer  leanness.  D'ye  sell  the  receipt  'r 
give  it  away? " 

The  Toddler  removed  his  pipe  from  his  mouth 
and  squinted  along  its  stem. 

"  I  generally  sell  it,  Sandy,"  he  replied  readily, 
"  but  I'll  give  it  to  you  because  you're  so  young 
and  innocent.  I  keep  lean  by  paying  strict  atten- 

107 


ROSS    GRANT 

tion  to  my  own  business — and  givin'  as  good  as  is 
sent  me  I  " 

Waymart  especially  enjoyed  this  home  thrust  at 
his  brother,  whom  he  feared  more  than  he  loved. 
Sandy,  having  drawn  the  thrust  on  himself,  could 
not  resent  it,  but  failed  to  enjoy  the  laugh  at  his 
expense.  He  reddened  and  tried  to  reply  care 
lessly,  "  All  right,  Tod,  you're  following  a  receipt 
I  was  brought  up  on." 

"Tod  wa'n't  brought  up,"  interposed  Trigger; 
"  he  come  up  hisself.  Says  he's  self-made." 

The  Toddler  nodded.  "  I  brought  myself  up — 
square." 

"  Round,  I  sh'  say  !  "  retorted  Sandy. 

"  Round,  you  might  say,"  assented  Tod  im- 
perturbably,  "  except  on  a  deal.  There  I'm 
square !  " 

At  this  Ross  applauded  vigorously,  his  own  ex 
perience  with  Sandy's  deals  proving  them  any 
thing  but  square.  Again  Sandy's  face  reddened. 

But  the  Toddler,  perceiving  that  Sandy's  temper 
was  failing  him,  arose  and  knocked  the  ashes  out 
of  his  pipe.  There  was  no  hint  of  displeasure  on 
his  fat  face.  Banging  on  the  stovepipe  with  a  tin 
cup  he  announced  loudly  : 

"  Vamose,  one  and  all.  It's  me  for  my  own 
bunk  to-night,  and  Trigger  for  Doc's  handy  helper. 
I'm  goin'  to  turn  in." 

108 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Sandy  and  Waymart  at  once  arose.  "  Sun's 
shinin'  yet/'  remarked  Sandy  looking  up  at  the 
peaks  in  the  east.  "  Come  on  over  t'  the  tent,  rest 
of  you  fellers,  and  let  the  Toddler  snooze." 

Trigger  and  Waymart  responded  to  the  invita 
tion.  The  three  went  slowly  across  the  valley 
laughing  and  talking,  and  settled  down  around 
the  little  sheet-iron  stove,  which  they  filled  with 
wood  as  the  night  was  cold. 

Ross  joined  Lucky,  who  still  sat  in  the  oppo 
site  doorway,  his  cold  pipe  clenched  between  his 
teeth.  The  boy  was  disappointed.  "  I  fully  ex 
pected  Sandy  to  offer  to  take  Trigger's  place,"  he 
whispered,  "  but  he  said  nothing  about  it." 

"  Time  enough  yet,"  said  Lucky. 

Ross  sat  down  on  an  adjacent  stone.  Tod,  in 
tent  on  "  turning  in,"  was  moving  about  his  shack 
whistling.  The  sick  man  was  quiet.  Slowly  the 
sunshine  faded  from  the  white  peaks  and  twilight 
fell.  The  figures  of  the  three  beside  the  stove 
became  blurred,  but  Sandy's  voice  still  rose  and  fell 
to  the  accompaniment  of  Trigger's  laugh.  Soon  a 
snore  apprised  the  watchers  of  Tod's  restfulness. 
Then  a  diversion  occurred  from  the  direction  of 
the  Pass.  The  dim  shape  of  a  horse  appeared 
bearing  a  rider,  the  first  horse  followed  by  another, 
on  the  back  of  which  was  a  pack. 

"  Dad  Page ! "  Lucky  exclaimed  in  a  low  but 

109 


ROSS    GRANT 

forceful  voice.  Then  in  a  lower  tone,  "  What's 
comiu'  now,  I  wonder  !  " 

He  did  not  arise  to  greet  the  newcomer  until 
Dad  had  advanced  to  the  corner  of  Tod's  cabin 
and  halted.  Then  he  arose,  and,  knocking  the 
ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  put  it  into  his  pocket  and 
went  forward. 

"  Hello,  Dad  !  " 

"  Hello,  Lucky  !  " 

Ross  arose,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  looked 
eagerly  at  Nicholas  Page's  father.  He  did  not  in 
the  least  resemble  his  son.  He  was  a  large  man 
with  a  large  face  and  heavy  features.  In  the  place 
of  the  Monkey's  mass  of  fine,  light  hair,  Dad's 
head  had  a  scant  covering  of  dark  hair.  His  eyes 
were  also  dark,  and  his  movements  slow. 

"  Doc  Tenderfoot,"  introduced  Lucky,  jerking 
his  thumb  over  his  shoulder  without  turning. 

"  Howdy,"  said  Dad.  "The  name  I've  heard 
before.  I've  just  hiked  over  from  Miners'." 

"  Camp  all  there?  "  from  Lucky. 

"  All  there,"  responded  Dad. 

"  Wall,  the  Pass  ain't  near  s'  excitin'  as  Miners', 
but  we  can  put  ye  up  as  well.  They's  an  empty 
bunk  over  there  in  my  shack  that's  waitin'  fer  ye." 

"Thank-ee,  Lucky,  I'll  turn  in." 

"  Hain't  et  lately,  have  ye?     If  ye  hain't " 

Dad  cut  him  short.  "  I  stopped  over  yon,"  nod- 
no 


GOLD    HUNTER 

ding  toward  the  Pass,  "  and  rustled  me  some 
grub." 

There  was  a  brief  pause  filled  by  Tod's  snores 
and  Sandy's  distant  voice.  Then  Dad  arrived  at 
the  real  object  of  this  interview. 

"  Lucky,  they  told  me  down  t'  Meeteetse  that  you 
was  with  Fred  Holzworth  when  he  was  sick." 

Another  pause.     "  They  told  ye  right." 

Dad  cleared  his  throat.  "  They  said  you  was 
the  only  one  he'd  have  around  'im." 

"  Guess  that's  right — the  only  one  he  wanted 
around  'im." 

"  Where  was  he  workin'  in  the  winter  and 
spring?  " 

"  Don't  know,  Dad.     He  never  said." 

Dad  looked  keenly  at  Lucky.  "  That's  queer — 
and  you  with  'im  at  the  end." 

"  Fred  was  pretty  bad  off  when  I  got  to  'im," 
volunteered  Lucky.  "  He  didn't  waste  much 
strength  talkin'  about  things  that  was  past." 

Dad  removed  an  old  worn  sombrero  with  a 
lopsided  brim.  He  rubbed  the  thin  hair  on  the 
top  of  his  head  and  ran  his  fingers  through  it. 

"  Fred  owed  me  a — well,  a  trifle  or  so,  Lucky. 
I  loaned  it  t'  him  last  summer.  He  was  outfittin' 
then  fer  a  long  hike.  Said  he  expected  t'  be  gone 
a  year  up  in  the  Wood  River  country  near  its  rise. 
I  ain't  acquainted  up  there  myself — but  when  Bill 

in 


ROSS    GRANT 

Travers  picked  Fred  up  it  wa'n't  on  any  trail  from 
Wood  River " 

"  Might  V  been,"  Lucky  broke  in.  "  Bill  found 
'im  at  the  lower  ford." 

"  He  never  sent  me  no  word  about  the  money 
he  owed,"  Dad  went  on,  paying  no  attention  to 
Lucky's  interruption.  "  Leastways  I  got  none. 
Never  knew  he  had  come  out  of  the  mountains  till 
I  heard  he  was  passin'  in  his  checks  at  the  Weller 
House.  I  was  in  Omaha  at  the  time,  ye  know." 

Lucky  nodded,  and  there  ensued  a  longer  pause. 
Lucky  selected  a  stick  and  began  to  whittle  it 
with  painstaking  care,  while  Dad  frowned  and 
twisted  uncomfortably  in  the  saddle.  Ross  lis 
tened  eagerly,  expecting  some  reference  to  Nicholas 
and  Hans. 

Finally  Dad  continued,  "  I  wanted  t'  see  ye 
right  after  I  got  back,  but  I  had  to  hike  out  after 
them  cattle  thieves.  Now  I  ain't  really  bound  on 
my  own  business  yet,  but  I  come  by  here  on  the 
way  to  Sheep's  Horn.  I  got  t'  subprena  old  man 
Clark  over  there "  The  speaker  stopped  ab 
ruptly  and  asked,  "  Lucky,  will  ye  answer  me 
this  ?  How  was  Fred  off  fer  property  ?  " 

Lucky  threw  the  stick  away,  closed  his  knife 
slowly  and  slipped  it  into  his  pocket.  Then  he 
spoke : 

"  Dad,  before  Fred  cashed  in  he  said  to  me,  sez 

112 


GOLD    HUNTER 

he, '  Lucky,  I've  fixed  things  up  square  with  every 
one  now.  When  I  leave,  nobody  can  say  he  has 
anything  ag'in'  Fred  Holzworth  ! ' 

Dad's  hand  fell  heavily  on  the  pommel  of  his 
saddle.  He  controlled  his  voice  with  an  effort. 
"  Lucky,  I'm  loath  to  say  anything  about  a  man 
that's  dead  and  gone,  but  when  Fred  said  what  he 
did  he  must  have  gone  short  in  his  memory.  It 
won't  break  me  t'  lose  what  I  loaned  'im,  but  no 
man  likes  to  be  dealt  with  unfair,  and  what  I  want 
to  know  is — and  what  I've  got  a  right  t'  know  is, 
has  he  any  property  to  square  with  ?  "  Again  Dad 
put  the  question  sharply,  and  again  Lucky  avoided 
a  direct  reply. 

"  Dad,  it's  mighty  little  I  know  about  any 
property  of  Fred's.  But  in  here  is  some  one," 
pointing  at  Trigger's  shack,  "  that  ye  can  talk  to 
when  he  gets  fit  t'  talk.  If  Fred  left  any  property, 
ye  can  find  out  by  his  brother  Hans.  Hans  Holz 
worth  is  here  now " 

"  Hans  Holzworth  !  "  ejaculated  Dad.  "  Fred's 
brother  here  !  Lemme  see  'im." 

The  rider  threw  himself  from  his  horse,  but  both 
Lucky  and  Ross  stepped  forward  with  a  warning 
exclamation. 

"  See  here,  Dad,"  Lucky  explained  hastily, 
"  Hans  can't  talk  United  States,  ner  understand 
it,  and  he's  too  sick  to  be  bothered." 

"3 


ROSS    GR4NT 

Dad  stopped,  a  hand  gripping  the  pommel  of 
his  saddle.  "  Then  he's  the  man  they  told  me 
Doc  had  come  up  to  look  after  ?  A  stranger  was 
all  anybody  knew  over  to  Miners'." 

"Didn't  Nick  tell  you  who  he  was?"  Ross 
broke  in  eagerly. 

Dad  turned  slowly  to  the  boy.  "  Nick  ?  No,  I 
haven't  seen  Nick." 

"  Didn't  you  send  for  him  ?  He  has  been  up 
here  with  us." 

"  Send  fer  'im  ?  No,  I  thought  he  was  up  on 
the  claims  above  Miners'.  I  didn't  come  by  way 
of  the  ranch,  and  I  didn't  stop  in  Miners'  long 
enough  to  hike  up  to  the  claims.  Where'd  he 
go?" 

"  Down  to  the  Lazy  Y,"  answered  Lucky,  and 
Dad  at  once  transferred  his  attention  to  the  sick 
man. 

"  Well,  this  here  Hans — what's  he  here  fer  ? 
Didn't  he  know  Fred  was  gone  ?  " 

"  Ye  see,  Dad,"  parried  Lucky,  "  he  can't  tell 
what  he's  here  fer  even  if  he  could  speak  English. 
He's  too  sick.  Doc  here  can  tell  ye  about  him 
that  way.  When  he  gits  well,  if  you  bring  some 
one  along  that  can  talk  his  lingo  and  ours,  I  sup 
pose  ye  can  ask  him  all  the  questions  ye  want 
answered.  Anyway,  he's  the  only  one  that  can 
answer  ye — I  can't." 

114 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Ross  looked  in  admiration  at  Lucky.  He  had 
been  both  truthful  to  Dad  and  yet  loyal  to  the 
trust  Fred  Holzworth  had  reposed  in  him. 

At  this  point  the  two  beside  the  McKenzie  tent, 
attracted  by  the  stir  of  Dad's  arrival,  reached  the 
twin  shacks.  Tod  also  awakened  and  stumbling 
to  the  window,  put  a  tousled  head  outside. 

"What's  this  racket  about?"  he  asked  in  a 
sleepy  voice. 

"  More  com'ny,"  declared  Trigger.  "  This  here 
valley's  gittin'  t'  be  the  most  popular  summer 
resort  this  side  Thermopolis  Hot  Springs." 

"Well,  why  not?"  drawled  Tod.  "  We've  got 
springs  and  lots  of  other  attractions  so  long  as 
Sandy  stays.  Who's  come  ?  " 

"  Dad  Page,"  replied  Trigger. 

"Deputy  sheriff,"  mumbled  Tod.  "Who's  he 
after  ?  Arrest  yerself,  Dad,  for  stealing  my  sleep  !  " 

"  Stay  t'  breakfast,  Dad,  and  steal  his  grub," 
invited  Trigger.  "  That's  what  he'd  really  like  t' 
see  vamosin'.  If  there's  one  thing  that  Tod  hates 
t'  do  it's  t'  eat !  " 

"  Under  some  circumstances,"  affirmed  Tod 
warmly,  "  when  you're  the  cook  !  " 

Dad  responded  but  absently  to  these  pleasantries. 
He  was  looking  with  frowning  eyes  into  the  dark 
interior  of  Trigger's  cabin  from  which,  at  that 
moment,  came  Hans'  weak  voice  calling,  as  usual, 


ROSS    GRANT 

for  "  Wasser."  Ross  reluctantly  repaired  to  the 
bunk  of  the  sick  man,  lighted  a  candle  and  went 
after  fresh  water,  leaving  the  men  relieving  the 
packhorse  of  its  load  and  hobbling  both  horses. 

When  he  returned  with  the  pail  of  water,  only 
Lucky  and  Dad  stood  beside  Trigger's  cabin.  Tod 
had  gone  to  bed,  while  Trigger  with  the  McKenzies 
had  returned  to  the  latter's  camp.  Lucky  was 
directing  Dad  to  a  bunk  in  his  shack  near  the 
Pass. 

"  I'll  turn  in,  then,  right  off/'  Dad  was  saying. 
"  I  want  t'  get  an  early  start  for  Sheep's  Horn. 

If  I  find  old  man  Clark  beyond  there  I  can " 

he  turned  abruptly  to  Ross.  "  Doc,  how  soon  can 
yer  patient  talk  business?'1 

"I  don't  know,"  began  Ross  dubiously.  "  Of 
course,  it  will  be  exciting  business,  rather,  won't 
it?" 

"  Mebby,"  grimly. 

"  Well,  you  better  wait  until  I  get  him  down  to 
Cody  and  have  a  real  doctor  look  him  over.  It 
will  be  days  yet  before  he  can  be  moved — have  no 
idea  how  long  myself." 

Dad  considered  a  moment.  "There's  a  new 
man,  Breitmann,  down  on  the  U  ranch.  He  talks 
both  English  and  German.  I  can  talk  through 
him." 

After  Dad  had  disappeared  in  the  direction  of 

116 


GOLD    HUNTER 

the  Pass,  Lucky  turned  to  Ross :  "  Doc,  I'll  turn 
in  with  Tod  here  so  to  be  on  hand  in  case  ye  want 


me." 


An  hour  later  when  Trigger  tiptoed  into  his 
own  cabin,  he  found  Hans  quiet,  and  Ross  in  his 
bunk  making  an  effort  to  keep  awake  until  he 
saw  whether  Sandy  came  in  Trigger's  stead. 

"What's  the  night's  layout,  Doc?"  whispered 
Trigger. 

"  Hans  is  asleep,"  returned  Ross  in  a  low  tone. 
"  I  don't  think  he'll  keep  us  up  to-night  as  he  did 
Tod  and  me  last  night.  Guess  you  can  prepare  to 
sleep." 

Trigger  tiptoed  to  the  table  and  looked  over  its 
contents  wonderingly.  "  How  ye  ever  handle 
them  things,  Doc,  is  beyant  me.  I  can  rope 
a  steer,  but  I  couldn't  never  lance  a  man's 
cheek." 

Ross  laughed.  "  And  I  couldn't  rope  a  steer  to 
save  my  life,  but  if  it's  to  save  Hans'  life  I  shall 
lance  his  cheek.  I've  never  done  any  lancing,  but 
I've  watched  my  uncle  do  it  until  I  know  I  could. 
But  I'm  hoping  Hans  will  escape  lancing." 

Trigger  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  man  in  the 
bunk.  Hans,  the  side  of  his  face  bulging  with 
cotton  and  bandages,  lay  with  his  hand  under  the 
pillow.  He  moved  restlessly  and  muttered  in  his 


117 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Say,  Doc,"  asked  Trigger,  "  have  ye  noticed 
he's  always  havin'  nightmares  about  '  golt '?" 

"  No,"  Ross's  voice  was  sleepy.  "  I'll  look  up 
that  word  when  I  think  of  it.  It  sounds  like 
'gold.7  Maybe  he  means  that." 

Trigger's  eyes  shone.  He  walked  restlessly 
around  the  table.  "  Doc,  will  doin'  that  make  yer 
everlastin'  fortune?"  He  pointed  at  the  table's 
contents. 

Ross  opened  his  eyes.  "  Well,  no,"  he  replied 
warmly.  "  Who  ever  heard  of  a  rich  doctor  ?  " 
He  laughed,  thinking  of  his  uncle. 

Trigger  stopped  in  front  of  his  bunk.  "  What 
d'ye  do  it  fer  then,  Doc?  Don't  ye  want  to  be 
rich?" 

Ross  rolled  over  yawning.  "  Yes,  of  course. 
Everybody  does,  but  I  notice  that  very  few  are — 
but,  Trig,"  here  the  boy  sat  up  suddenly,  "  I'd  be 
a  doctor  if  I  knew  I  could  barely  earn  a  living. 
You  see  I — well,  I've  got  to  be  one.  I'd  rather  do 
things  like  that,"  nodding  at  Hans,  "  than — than 
to  eat.  Providing,"  here  he  laughed  up  into  Trig 
ger's  incredulous  face  and  dropped  his  earnest 
manner,  "  providing  I'm  not  too  hungry  !  " 

In  another  moment  he  was  asleep,  and  presently 
the  cabin  was  quiet,  with  Trigger  lying  on  the 
floor  near  the  medicine  chest. 

In  the  cold  gray  of  the  morning  Ross  awakened. 

118 


GOLD    HUNTER 

On  the  table  the  candle  burned  low  in  its  socket 
of  wood.  Hans  lay  asleep  with  his  shoulders  and 
arms  uncovered.  Ross  arose,  and,  going  softly  to 
the  bunk,  was  pulling  up  the  blankets,  when  his 
attention  was  arrested  by  a  paper  lying  beside  the 
sick  man.  Hans  must  have  awakened  some  time 
before,  and,  beguiled  by  the  quiet  of  the  night  and 
the  slumbers  of  his  nurses,  had  taken  the  letter 
from  its  envelope  and  fallen  asleep  in  the  vain  at 
tempt  to  examine  it  by  the  light  of  the  candle. 

For  an  instant  Ross  stood  idly  looking  down  at 
the  paper.  Had  Hans  not  been  in  so  critical  a 
condition  he  would  have  locke'd  the  letter  up  in 
his  chest  then,  and  risked  the  effect  produced  on 
the  invalid,  but  such  a  proceeding  was  out  of  the 
question. 

"  Might  prove  fatal  to  him,"  thought  the  boy. 
"  He  gets  so  awfully  excited  over  that  letter.  If 
he  didn't  find  it  he  would " 

Ross  uttered  a  low  exclamation.  His  own  words 
had  suggested  a  way  out  of  the  dilemma.  A  wave 
of  excitement  surged  over  him.  He  looked  about 
for  the  means  to  put  his  plan  into  immediate  ef 
fect,  but  it  would  require  paper,  pencil  and  a  little 
time.  The  pencil  and  paper  were  locked  up  in  his 
medicine  chest,  and  that  stood  near  Trigger's  head. 
To  get  them  meant  to  awaken  him.  Besides,  the 
idea  was  so  simple  and  could  be  so  easily  worked 

119 


ROSS    GRANT 

out  that  the  following  day  was  time  enough  to  act 
on  it. 

Quietly  Ross  picked  up  the  sheet  and  folded  it. 
It  was  large  and  many  times  doubled.  Across  its 
surface  with  numerous  twists  and  turns  ran  a  line 
sprinkled  with  dots  and  names  on  either  side,  and 
much  marginal  writing.  As  Ross  restored  it  to 
the  envelope,  one  name  only  stood  out  clearly.  It 
was  written  in  large  letters,  and  was  located  at  the 
end  of  the  line  furthest  from  Cody.  It  was  a 
name  a  single  glance  at  which  would  have  repaid 
the  McKenzies  for  their  extensive  outfitting  in 
Cody  and  their  journey  to  Elk  Pass.  The  name 
was  Sheep's  Horn. 


1 20 


CHAPTER  VI 

SCHEMES  AND  COUNTER  SCHEMES 

"  WHY,  that's  the  place  where  Dad  is  going," 
was  Ross's  first  thought  when  his  eyes  fell  on  the 
name  of  Sheep's  Horn.  Then  as  he  pushed  the 
letter  beneath  the  pillow  and  went  again  to  his 
own  bunk,  another  and  more  important  considera 
tion  occurred  to  him.  "  Suppose,  in  spite  of  me, 
Sandy  should  get  hold  of  that  one  name,"  he  told 
himself  uneasily,  "  but  then,  he  won't  have  an  op 
portunity  after  I  carry  out  my  plans,  and  that  will 
be  to-morrow  the  first  time  Hans  sleeps." 

He  slept  late  himself  the  following  morning, 
and  did  not  appear  in  the  other  cabin  until  the 
three  there  had  finished  breakfast  and  Dad  had 
been  long  on  his  way  toward  the  Wind  River  dis 
trict  beyond  Sheep's  Horn.  Trigger  was  moping 
over  the  dish-pan,  and  dreading  bread  making,  it 
being  his  turn  in  the  culinary  department,  a  de 
partment  he  loathed. 

"  I  wisht,"  he  was  saying  as  Ross  entered,  "  that 
we  could  find  a  patent  dish-washer  and  baker  t' 
pack  up  inter  the  mountings.  If  there's  one  thing 


121 


ROSS    GRANT 

Here  Lucky  arose  good-naturedly,  and  elbowed 
him  out  of  the  way  with  one  powerful  sweep  of 
his  arm.  "  Let  be,  Trig !  Git  t'  yer  work.  I 
guess  I'm  patent  enough  t'  hoe  off  the  dishes  and 
sling  some  sinkers  good  enough  to  fill  ye  up.  I 
was  makin'  sinkers  before  ye  dreamed  of  the 
mount'ins." 

Trigger  yielded  place,  pleased  yet  shamefaced. 
It  was  not  the  first  time  that  Lucky  had  come  to 
his  rescue  in  various  ways.  He  turned  and  faced 
Ross. 

"  Hello,  Doc  !  "  he  shouted.  "  Awake  yit  ?  Ye 
don't  look  it.  How's  Hans?  " 

As  Ross  was  sitting  down  at  the  table,  Sandy 
and  Waymart  appeared  at  the  door,  the  former 
echoing  Trigger's  question. 

Ross  reached  for  the  can  of  condensed  milk. 
"  Hans  is  decidedly  better  this  morning.  Must 
have  slept  since  midnight — that  is,"  he  corrected 
himself,  thinking  of  the  letter,  "  most  of  the  time ; 
and  his  face  is  less  inflamed." 

Tod,  rummaging  around  in  a  tool  chest,  glanced 
up  with  a  grin.  "  Doc,  seen  anything  of  that  let 
ter  that  he  is  so  all-fired  careful  of?  I'd  like  to  git 
a  squint  at  her  picture.  Wonder  if  she'll  be  hikin' 
out  here  some  time  t'  marry  him.  Think  of  a 
woman  around  these  diggings  !  " 

Lucky  turned,  and  tossed  a  hot  flapjack  on  Ross's 

122 


GOLD   HUNTER 

tin  plate,  managing  to  upset  a  kettle  of  hot  water 
that  stood  on  the  back  of  the  stove.  The  water  ran 
briskly  under  Tod,  causing  him  to  move  in  more 
lively  style  than  was  his  wont,  and  the  subject  of 
the  letter  was  forgotten  in  the  laughter  and  confu 
sion  which  followed. 

"  I  see  Dad's  gone,"  remarked  Sandy  when  quiet 
was  restored. 

"Yep,"  Tod  replied.  "He  hiked  out  early 
enough  to  get  shet  of  Trig's  breakfast.  If  I'd 
thought  I'd  told  'im  it  was  my  turn  to  sling  grub 
this  A.  M." 

"  He  thought  it  was,  reason  he  fell  over  hisself  t' 
hit  the  hike  1  "  came  back  from  Trigger  with  a 
grin. 

"  Where's  he  gone  t'  ?  "  asked  Sandy,  leaning 
against  the  door  jamb,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  a 
long  lock  of  red  hair  reaching  down  to  his  eye 
brows. 

"  Over  beyant  Sheep's  Horn,"  Lucky  answered. 
"  Got  a  subpoena  to  serve  on  old  man  Clark." 

"  What's  old  man  Clark  doin'  over  Sheep's 
Horn  way  ?  "  asked  Sandy  in  an  uninterested  tone. 

Ross,  at  the  sound  of  the  name,  jumped  involun 
tarily  and  felt  his  face  change  color. 

"  Prospectin',"  laconically  from  Lucky.  "  He 
was  the  first  to  go  through  here  after  I  come  the 
last  of  May.  Could  hardly  git  over  the  trails.  I 

123 


ROSS    GRANT 

surmised  he'd  have  more  trouble  further  up,  but  he 
must  have  got  along  all  right.  We  didn't  have  so 
much  snow  this  year  as  most  years,  or  he  couldn't 
'a'  made  it.  Hain't  heard  of  s'  many  slides  over  on 
the  Divide  as  usual." 

"  Say,"  volunteered  Waymart,  "  I  know  old 
man  Clark.  He  might  ha'  went  t'  Sheep's  Horn, 
but  he  wouldn't  stay  there — not  in  the  shack 
under  the  Horn,  at  any  rate  !  " 

Ross  and  Trigger  were  the  only  ones  who  seemed 
to  need  an  explanation.  "  Why  ?  "  asked  the 
former.  Any  information  that  he  could  now 
glean  concerning  the  Horn  was  of  interest. 

Waymart,  who  sat  in  front  of  the  stove  on  a 
box,  did  not  trouble  to  withdraw  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth.  He  spoke  indistinctly  around  it.  "  That 
there  ha'nt,"  he  explained  briefly. 

"  What  ha'nt  ?  "  asked  Trigger,  his  tone  show 
ing  that  behind  his  question  lay  a  fear  that 
Ross  did  not  feel  as  he  too  echoed,  "  Yes,  what 
ha'nt?" 

Waymart  smoked  on  as  stolidly  as  though  no 
one  had  spoken.  Sandy  flipped  the  stray  lock  from 
his  eyes  and  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Jest  a  fool 
sound  that's  in  that  cabin,  and  never  stops.  Pah  !  " 

Waymart  looked  up  quickly.  "  There  was  a 
time  onct,  Sandy,  that,  when  we  got  there,  instid  of 
say  in'  i  Pah  ! '  ye  said  *  Come  on.  Let's  vamose.'  " 

124 


GOLD   HUNTER 

It  was  seldom  that  Waymart  threw  any  obstruct 
ing  remarks  in  his  brother's  path. 

He  was  rewarded  now  by  a  black  look  as  Sandy 
retorted,  "  That  was  out  of  respect,  Mart,  t'  yer 
sentiments.  If  I  remember  right,  ye  wa'n't  sleepin' 
well  then  o'  nights,  and  that  little  sound  sort  of 
wore  on  yer  nerves.  Ye  had  a  little  indigestion  at 
the  time,  I  rec'lect,  and  so  we  got  out  to  sort  o' 
soothe  ye  down  and  tone  ye  up."  Sandy's  tone  was 
insultingly  sarcastic. 

Waymart  made  no  response,  but  drew  furiously 
at  his  pipe. 

"  Wall,  now  that  ye've  got  us  so  far,"  insisted 
Trigger,  "  tell  us  what  in  tarnation  this  ha'nt  is  ? 
What  is  it  that  never  stops  ?  " 

"  It's  a  sound,  Trigger,"  explained  Lucky,  "jest 
a  sound  what  can't  be  explained  ner  found  out 
about,  jest  a  little  tap,  tap,  tap.  That's  what  I  call 
it.  Every  one  that  hears  it  hears  it  different,  and 
not  every  one  wants  to  stop  t'  listen  long." 

"  Ye  bet  they  don't,"  said  Waymart,  coolly. 
He  removed  his  pipe  from  his  mouth.  "  They're 
like  Sandy  here.  They  git  out  fast,  and  then  lay 
their  gittin'  onto  some  one's  else  shoulders." 

Tod  laughed.  "  Guess  I'll  have  to  go  over  some 
day  and  look  into  that  little  ghost.  I'd  like  to 
meet  up  with  a  ghost  that  can  come  it  over 
Sandy." 

125 


ROSS    GRANT 

Sandy  scowled  and  exclaiming  brusquely,  "  Come 
on  to  work,  Mart/'  left  the  shack. 

"  Sore  spot/'  grinned  Tod. 

Waymart  arose.  "  He's  jest  as  scared  of  ha'nts 
as  any  one  else,  only  he  don't  like  t'  own  it  up. 
Sandy  always  took  ownin'  up  hard,  anyway.  He 
ruther  see  the  other  feller  doin'  that  I  " 

"  Not  much  love  lost  between  them  brothers,  is 
there?  "  asked  Trigger  when  Waymart  had  left. 

Tod  looked  shrewdly  at  Trigger.  "  You've  lived 
so  long  among  the  cow-punchers  of  Montana,  Trig, 
that  you're  tender  and  innocent  yet  to  the  ways  of 
Wyoming/'  he  explained  affably,  "  and  among  'em 
Sandy  and  Waymart.  When  ye  get  seasoned  here 
you'll  find  they  don't  have  occasion  to  love  each 
other,  only  Waymart  has  occasion  t'  mind  what 
his  dear  little  brother  says  to  him  or  else  get 
strung  for  it.  There's  discipline  in  that  family, 
and  Sandy  always  is  the  one  with  the  whip !  " 

As  soon  as  the  rest  had  left  the  shack,  Ross  told 
Lucky  what  had  occurred  during  the  night,  and 
what  he  had  seen. 

"  Sheep's  Horn  ?  "  exclaimed  Lucky  excitedly. 
"  So  the  trail  ends  at  Sheep's  Horn.  Are  ye 
plumb  sure,  Doc,  that  Sheep's  Horn's  the  name  ?  " 

"  Absolutely  sure,"  returned  Ross,  "  because  I 
noticed  right  away  that  it  was  the  same  place 
where  Dad  said  he  was  going." 

126 


GOLD   HUNTER 

"  And  I  thought  old  man  Clark — the  one  he's 
after — was  daffy  to  go  near  there  prospectin'.  The 
Sheep's  Horn— ha  !  " 

"  Of  course,"  continued  Ross,  "  that  name  means 
nothing  to  me.  I  never  heard  it  before  last  night. 
But  it  means  a  lot  to  you  and  to  any  one  who 
knows  these  mountains — like  Sandy.  Now  if  he 
should  get  one  glance  at  that  name " 

He  paused,  and  Lucky  finished  gravely  :  "  That 
one  look  would  be  all  that  Sandy's  waitin'  fer." 

"  Just  what  I  thought.  That  day  he  got  to  the 
window  and  Nick  caught  him,  and  Hans  had  just 
taken  out  the  letter — whew !  One  glance  would 
be  enough,  for  the  name  is  in  big  letters." 

"  Couldn't  be  he  seen  it,  or  he  wouldn't  be  here 
now,"  commented  Lucky.  "  He'd  be  at  the  Horn 
by  now." 

Ross  laid  a  forefinger  impressively  on  his  other 
palm.  "  No — and  he  isn't  going  to  see  it,  for, 
Lucky,  I've  got  a  plan,  a  jim-dandy  plan  too  I 
It's  so  simple  I  was  a  lunkhead  not  to  think  of  it 
before." 

Lucky  looked  intently  at  the  boy.  "  What's 
that,  Doc  ?  What  are  ye  aimin'  t'  do  ?  " 

"  Get  ahead  of  Sandy  !  " 

"How?" 

"  At  last,"  Ross  announced  triumphantly,  "  I've 
thought  of  a  way  out  with  that  letter,  and  a  good 

127 


ROSS    GRANT 

sure  way,  too.  I'll  take  a  piece  of  paper  the  size 
of  the  letter,  and  draw  a  crooked  line  on  it,  and 
make  dots,  and  put  in  a  lot  of  names — any  old 
names,  and  then,  when  he's  asleep,  substitute  it  in 
the  envelope  for  the  letter,  and  lock  that  up.  You 
see  he'll  think  then  that  he  has  the  real  letter  be 
cause  he  can't  see  anything  but  outlines  without 
his  glasses,  and  he  can't  get  glasses  until  he's  well 
enough  to  go  to  Cody  ;  and  then  he'll  be  out  of 
Sandy's  reach,  and  can  take  care  of  his  letter  in 
safety." 

Lucky  arose.  His  eyes  shone.  "  I  cotton  t1  that 
idee,  Doc.  That's  a  great  way  out !  That  idee 
shows  a  good  head  on  ye  I  " 

"  You  see,"  cried  Ross,  "  if  I  had  thought  of  this 
before,  I  could  have  made  the  exchange  last  night. 
But  I'll  fix  the  paper  now  and,  when  Hans  is 
asleep  this  morning,  I'll  change  the  letters." 

A  few  moments  later  Ross  was  left  alone  in 
the  valley  with  Hans.  During  the  morning  he 
made  out  a  paper  such  as  he  had  described,  and 
laid  it  aside  to  await  his  opportunity  to  make 
the  exchange.  But  the  opportunity  did  not 
come. 

"  Hans  slept  so  lightly  this  morning,"  he  told 
Lucky  when  the  latter  came  from  his  work  at 
noon,  "  that  the  least  movement  around  him  awak 
ened  him.  But  I  think  I  can  make  the  change 

128 


GOLD   HUNTER 

before  night.     I  have  the  other  paper,  the  one  I 
fixed  up,  in  my  German  dictionary." 

Lucky's  face  fell,  but  he  showed  his  disappoint 
ment  in  no  other  way.  Quietly  he  set  about  get 
ting  dinner,  while  Ross  stood  in  the  doorway 
watching  him. 

"  I'm  thinking  about  Dad  and  his  debt,"  said 
the  boy  finally.  "  Strikes  me  that  Hans  will 
have  to  pry  himself  loose  from  some  of  his  in 
heritance  as  soon  as  he  gets  it.  Wonder  how 
much  he'll  have  to  pay  ?  " 

Lucky  frowned  thoughtfully  and  applied  a  knife 
to  a  can  of  baked  beans.  "  Dad  didn't  say."  Then 
he  added  thoughtfully,  "  Doc,  Fred  was  a  square 
dealer  and  in  that  letter  I  believe  that  he  has  told 
Hans  all  about  the  debt " 

"  But  you  never  told  Dad  that "  Ross  began. 

Lucky  looked  up  in  surprise.  "  Rec'lect,  Doc, 
that  Dad  don't  know  of  no  letter  1 " 

"  Of  course  not,"  assented  Ross.  "  But,  for  a 
moment,  I  had  forgotten." 

Lucky  poured  the  beans  into  a  pan  and  set  it 
over  the  fire,  saying  slowly,  "Doc,  as  I  see  things, 
it's  my  duty  to  help  Hans  t'  that  find  and  then 
leave  him  t'  settle  with  Dad.  I'll  deal  fair  with 
'im  and  expect  him  t'  deal  fair  with  Dad." 

After  dinner  Lucky  lingered  under  pretense  of 
helping  Ross,  when  the  others  started  for  their 

129 


ROSS    GRANT 

work.  He  brought  a  pail  of  water  for  Hans  and 
then  stood  out  at  the  corner  of  Tod's  cabin  and 
turned  his  eyes  abstractedly  toward  the  Pass, 
through  which  Sandy  and  Waymart  were  walk 
ing  briskly. 

Suddenly  Sandy  turned  back  and,  looking  up, 
caught  sight  of  Trigger.  Dropping  his  hammer 
he  made  a  funnel  of  his  hands  and  yelled  : 

"  Trig — 'lo,  Trig !  Come  along  back  and  see 
some  ore  we've  found  over  on  t'other  side." 

Trigger  responded  with  alacrity.  He  came  strid 
ing  down  the  trail,  and  joining  the  two,  disap 
peared  through  the  Pass.  For  an  instant  Lucky 
stood  staring  after  them,  his  big  kind  face  overcast, 
and  his  brows  drawn  together  in  perplexity.  Then 
he  dropped  on  a  rock  beside  the  cabin,  and  with 
his  elbows  on  his  knees,  took  his  head  between  his 
hands  and  became  motionless. 

Here  Ross  found  him  a  little  later  and  remon 
strated  with  him.  "  I'm  right  on  the  job  this  after 
noon.  You  can  go  back  to  work.  I'm  glued  tight 
to  this  old  shack." 

Before  Lucky  could  reply,  the  stillness  of  the 
valley  was  disturbed  by  the  hoof  beats  of  a  horse, 
and  a  man's  hoarse  voice  called,  "  Who's  t'  home 
here  ?  " 

Ross  ran  around  the  shack  followed  by  Lucky. 
Confronting  them  was  a  man  of  middle  age  and 

130 


GOLD    HUNTER 

grizzled  beard,  mounted  on  a  shaggy  little  broncho 
and  leading  another  on  which  was  cinched  a 
wooden  pack-saddle. 

"  How  d'ye  do  ?  "  greeted  Lucky. 

"  Howdy,  both  on  ye,"  returned  the  stranger. 
"  I'm  jest  over  the  range  there,"  jerking  his  thumb 
behind  him,  "in  Gold  Gulch.  I'm  out  o'  sticks1 
just  as  I'm  nearin'  the  end  of  this  year's  work. 
Don't  want  t'  go  t'  Meeteetse  for  'em,  ner  even 
Miners'.  I  hain't  got  time.  Can  I  snake  any  over 
from  here?" 

Lucky  nodded.     "  Guess  I  can  accommodate  ye." 

"To  how  much?" 

Lucky  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and 
poked  his  toe  into  the  dirt.  Then  he  raised 
his  head  and  squared  his  shoulders.  A  sudden 
gleam  illuminated  his  strong  features.  "  Would  a 
couple  of  cases  help  ye  out  ?  "  His  voice  was  eager 
out  of  all  proportion  to  the  subject  under  consider 
ation. 

"  You  bet  I  "  assented  the  stranger  emphatically. 
"  It  would  finish  the  work." 

"  Doc,"  said  Lucky,  "  ye're  always  wantin'  t' 
stretch  yer  legs.  I'll  stay  here,  and  you  go  up 
with  him  after  the  sticks  if  ye  want  to.  Ye'll  find 
two  cases  in  the  box  out  on  the  dump." 

"  Right  ho !  "  exclaimed  Ross,  glad  to  "  stretch 

1  Sticks  of  dynamite. 


ROSS    GRANT 

his  legs  "  through  the  warm  sunlight.  "  In  twenty 
minutes  give  Hans  two  of  the  yellow  tablets.  Dis 
solve  'em  in  a — oh,  a  couple  of  swallows  of  water, 
quarter  of  a  cup,  maybe." 

While  he  was  preparing  the  sick  man  to  be  left  in 
Lucky's  care,  the  two  men  exchanged  such  news  as 
was  to  be  had  among  the  solitude  of  the  peaks.  To 
the  stranger  the  activities  of  Elk  Pass  seemed  ex 
traordinary.  He  was  developing  his  claims  with 
only  one  other  man  within  twenty  miles. 

"  Don't  the  mountains  and  the  loneliness  get  on 
your  nerves?"  Ross  asked  as  he  walked  by  the 
other's  stirrup. 

The  man  laughed.  "  No,  young  man,  and  *  no  ' 
fer  two  reasons.  First,  I  ain't  lonesome,  and,  sec 
ond,  I  hain't  got  nerves  except  when  I'm  corralled 
in  Chicago  fer  a  spell.  Got  a  darter  out  there 
married,  and  onct  a  year  I  have  to  visit  'er.  Wall, 
wall !  Talk  about  nerves  and  lonesomeness  in  all 
that  jostle  and  bustle  and  joggle.  No-sir-ee  !  It's 
me  fer  the  mountings.  I'd  die  of  lonesomeness  in 
Chicago." 

Involuntarily  he  stretched  up,  and  looked  the 
peaks  in  the  face,  the  wooded,  silent,  snow-crowned 
peaks  that  meant  to  him  companionship  and  work 
and  hope. 

Ross  dropped  behind  as  they  began  the  ascent  of 
the  Elk  trail,  and,  in  silence,  the  two  mounted  to 

132 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Lucky's  tunnel.  Beside  the  mouth  of  the  tunnel 
was  a  box  containing  the  cases  of  dynamite.  Ross 
opened  the  box,  and  looked  inside. 

"  There  are  only  two  cases  here,"  he  exclaimed 
in  surprise.  "  He's  letting  you  have  all  he  has  ex 
cept  a  few  sticks  here  in  another  case." 

The  stranger  looked  in.  "  Two,"  he  said  ;  "  but 
it  does  shave  'im  clost,  don't  it  ?  " 

Ross  hesitated.  "  We'll  take  'em  both  ;  and,  if 
he  doesn't  know  how  few  it  leaves  him " 

"  I  can  drop  a  case  with  'im,"  interrupted  the 
stranger.  "  All  right." 

Lucky,  sitting  at  the  door  of  Trigger's  shack, 
waved  his  hand  at  the  packhorse  when  Ross  told 
him  of  the  dearth  of  dynamite  remaining  in  the 
box.  "  Pack  it  along,  stranger.  Ye're  welcome  to 
it.  It  wouldn't  last  me  long,  anyway.  I've  got  t' 
go  to  Miners'  Camp  after  a  load,  and  a  matter  of  a 
few  sticks  more  or  less  don't  matter." 

As  soon  as  the  stranger  was  out  of  ear-shot,  Ross 
turned  in  astonishment  on  Lucky.  "Are  you 
thinking  of  going  to  Miners'  Camp  now  t " 

Lucky  looked  up  intently  at  the  side  of  Elk. 
"  Got  to  go  soon.  Don't  take  long." 

"  How  long  ?  "  Ross  felt  a  sudden  sinking  of 
the  heart  at  the  thought  of  being  left  without  Lucky 
in  the  midst  of  the  present  situation. 

Lucky  considered.      "  I    generally  leave  here 


ROSS    GRANT 

about  midnight  if  there's  a  moon, — and  there's  one 
this  week, — and  git  back  some  time  same  day — 
nearer  night  than  noon." 

Ross  breathed  more  easily.  "  Oh,  that's  not  a 
long  trip  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  When  will  you  go?  " 

Lucky  scanned  the  side  of  Elk  again.  "  I  can't 
jest  say  now."  He  arose.  "  Probably  ye'll  git  that 
letter  cached  this  afternoon  and  then  mebbe  to 
night  "  he  broke  off.  "  I'll  go  up  now  and 

put  in  a  shot.  There's  enough  sticks  left  for  an 
other  blast — and  we'll  see." 

Lucky  left  Ross  thoroughly  puzzled  and  disap 
pointed  by  this  unexpected  move.  It  seemed 
strange  that  after  guarding  Hans  so  carefully  for 
days,  Lucky  should  plan  an  absence  of  twenty-four 
hours  with  the  situation  unchanged.  There  oc 
curred  to  Ross,  however,  an  agreeable  explanation. 

"  I  guess  Lucky  trusts  me  to  handle  the  situa 
tion,"  he  decided,  "  with  this  plan  about  the  letter. 
Of  course,  with  a  false  letter  under  Hans'  pillow, 
Sandy  may  peek  and  pry  all  he  wants  to,  and 
Lucky  feels  free  to  go  after  dynamite.  I  can  fix 
the  letter  business  the  first  time  Hans  sleeps." 

But  Hans  persisted  in  remaining  awake  hour 
after  hour,  with  the  precious  envelope  clutched  in 
his  hand,  and  Ross  was  obliged  to  confess  further 
failure  to  Lucky  at  night  as  the  two  stood  in  front 
of  the  open  doorway  of  Trigger's  cabin  bathed  in 


GOLD   HUNTER 

the  warm  multi-colored  glow  of  the  setting  sun. 
From  the  little  stovepipe  lashed  against  the  tree 
down  by  the  creek  a  cloud  of  smoke  was  rolling. 
Sandy  stood  over  a  skillet  tossing  flapjacks  into  the 
air  and  catching  them  in  the  pan  on  their  reverse 
side  as  they  fell.  Waymart  lay  on  the  grass. 
Beside  the  stove  sat  Trigger,  watching  the  familiar 
manipulation  of  flapjacks.  In  his  shack  Tod, 
whistling  lustily,  was  taking  his  turn  "  rustling 
grub." 

"  Of  course,"  Ross  told  Lucky,  "  I  can  make 
the  transfer  to-night  without  any  trouble." 

Lucky  nodded  and  looked  behind  him  at  the 
sick  man,  who  lay  staring  at  them  with  his  free 
eye,  his  hand  still  beneath  the  pillow. 

"  It's  your  turn  in  here  to-night,  isn't  it  ?  "  added 
Ross. 

"  Yes — it's  my  turn,"  answered  Lucky  in  a 
curiously  uncertain  tone. 

"  Or  are  you  going  to  Miners'  ?  "  asked  Ross 
quickly. 

Lucky  hesitated.     "  I'll  see  later  on." 

Here  Tod  came  to  the  door  of  his  shack  and  let 
out  a  stentorian  yell :  "  A  Waldorf-Astoria  dinner 
with  all  fixin's  now  being  served  in  the  cabin  at  the 
rear.  First  call,  and  there  won't  be  a  second  I " 
Tod  was  only  a  matter  of  five  years  distant  from 
York  State. 


ROSS    GRANT 

Ross  turned  back  to  his  patient  a  moment  and 
then  joined  Lucky  and  Tod  in  the  other  shack.  A 
moment  later  Waymart  McKenzie  entered  and  took 
Trigger's  place  at  the  bare  pine  table. 

"  Trig  says  he's  taken  his  knittin'  and  gone 
visitin',"  Waymart  explained  with  an  infrequent 
grin,  "  and  he  sent  me  t'  take  his  place.  Sandy's 
spinnin'  a  yarn  that'll  take  till  midnight." 

"  Fall  on  the  flapjacks,"  invited  Tod  hospitably. 

Lucky  said  nothing,  but  his  shoulders  twitched 
involuntarily,  and  he  glanced  again  and  again  dur 
ing  the  meal  at  the  two  figures  eating  beside  the 
little  sheet-iron  stove. 

After  supper  Tod  washed  the  dishes,  Waymart 
bearing  him  company.  Lucky  took  Ross's  water 
pail  and  started  for  the  creek.  Sandy  and  Trigger 
were  not  visible. 

Ross  stood  outside  and  watched  Lucky  until 
the  growth  of  quaking  asp  bushes  just  beyond  the 
McKenzie  camp  hid  him  from  view.  A  few  mo 
ments  after  he  disappeared  in  the  bushes,  Sandy 
and  Trigger  strolled  past  and  entered  the  tent  to 
gether,  where  they  were  joined  by  Waymart. 

For  a  longer  time  than  usual  Ross  waited  while 
Hans  demanded  water  petulantly.  Finally  the 
watcher  discovered  Lucky  coming  from  the  direc 
tion  of  his  cabin  bearing  the  dripping  pail. 

"  Did  ye  think  I  was  never  comin'  ?  "  he  asked, 

136 


GOLD    HUNTER 

adding  immediately,  "  Better  go  stretch  yer  legs 
while  I  stay  with  Hans." 

Willingly  Ross  obeyed,  and  strode  off,  taking  his 
way  past  the  tent  and  down  the  trail  which  he 
and  Lucky  had  traveled  a  week  ago.  It  seemed 
ages  to  the  boy  since  he  had  started  with  Bill 
Travers  from  Miners'  Camp,  so  many  events  had 
been  crowded  into  the  days  and  so  much  anxiety. 
He  whistled  buoyantly  as  he  walked,  confident  that 
his  plan  with  the  letter  would  do  away  that  very 
night  with  one  source  of  anxiety. 

"  This  is  the  time  I'll  put  it  all  over  Sandy ! " 
he  exulted.  "  I'll  cheat  him  out  of  a  chance  to 
cheat.  Wish  he  would  have  to  fall  to  and  do  a 
little  honest  work.  I'd  like  to  see  his  hands  hard 
ened  up  some."  Here  Ross  spread  his  out  and 
grinned  at  them  quizzically.  "  I'd  like  to  see  them 
look  like  mine  right  now,  for  instance.  Uncle 
will  tell  me  mine  don't  look  much  like  a  sur 
geon's  hands,  but  they'll  have  time  to  limber 
up  and  soften  before  I  get  to  be  a  surgeon,  I 
think ! " 

He  left  the  trail  half  a  mile  below  the  valley 
and  climbed  the  mountain  at  the  left  until  he  was 
able  to  overlook  the  Valley  of  the  Pass.  Climb 
ing  aimlessly  among  the  boulders  with  which  the 
mountainside  was  strewn,  he  ran  into  a  weather- 
beaten  stake  driven  into  the  thin  soil  near  a  deep 


ROSS    GRANT 

hole  blasted  out  of  the  rock.  He  stopped  to  ex 
amine  it. 

"  Another  graveyard  of  somebody's  hopes,"  he 
muttered  aloud,  twitching  away  from  the  stake  a 
rag  of  paper  still  flopping  in  the  wind. 

The  paper  had  contained  writing  which  the 
storms  of  years  had  obliterated.  Only  a  date  re 
mained  that  showed  the  claim  had  been  staked  in 
the  late  nineties.  Originally  it  must  have  con 
tained  the  name  of  the  prospector  who  had  staked 
the  claim.  Ross  had  been  in  the  Shoshones  long 
enough  to  picture  accurately  what  had  occurred 
on  that  spot.  Some  prospector  had  explored  those 
peaks  with  his  pack  outfit,  his  blow-pipe  and  his 
microscope.  In  his  wanderings  he  had  happened 
on  some  outcropping  of  the  strata  that  made  up 
the  range,  and  had  found,  or  thought  he  had 
found,  a  "  lead  "  within  its  enclosing  "  wall  rocks  " 
at  this  place.  Here  he  had  stopped.  In  the  lead 
there  might  be  a  vein  of  metal-bearing  ore. 

"  And  that's  what  they're  all  hunting — metal- 
bearing  ore,"  said  Ross  aloud. 

Planting  his  back  against  the  stake  he  looked 
across  the  valley  at  the  side  of  Elk  with  the  three 
dark  holes  that  marked  three  more  attempts  to 
reach  metal-bearing  ore. 

"  The  thing  that's  hard  to  understand,"  he 
thought,  "  is  that  when  they've  failed  a  hundred 

138  " 


GOLD    HUNTER 

times  they're  just  as  keen  on  the  next  scent. 
Maybe  now  this  fellow,"  he  looked  again  into  the 
"  discovery  hole  "  behind  him,  "  had  blasted  and 
hammered  all  over  these  mountains  and  screwed 
his  microscope  into  his  eye  over  a  thousand  bits 
of  valueless  ore." 

Aimlessly  the  boy,  starting  from  the  discovery 
hole,  paced  off  three  hundred  feet  at  the  right, 
pretending  he  was  staking  a  claim  according  to 
law.  He  was  merely  following  the  procedure  of 
the  real  prospector  in  the  late  nineties.  Three 
hundred  feet  the  law  gave  him,  surveyed  at  right 
angles  to  the  general  trend  of  the  "  lead."  Then 
he  was  entitled  to  fifteen  hundred  feet  along  the 
lead,  making  twenty  acres  in  all.  No  more  could 
he  possess  in  a  single  claim,  but  much  less  if  he 
desired.  A  stake  set  at  each  corner  of  this  crudely 
surveyed  claim  held  it  against  all  comers,  so  long 
as  the  prospector  did  his  "  development  work  "  ac 
cording  to  law.  In  this  case  the  staker  had  de 
serted  his  claim  and  gone  elsewhere.  There  was 
but  little  good  ore  in  the  vicinity  of  Elk  Pass. 
Elk  Mountain  contained  the  best  veins  in  that 
neighborhood. 

"  And  I  hope  that  Lucky's  tunnel  is  following 
the  best  vein  here,"  muttered  Ross  as  he  slipped 
and  slid  down  to  the  Pass.  "  I'd  like  to  see  him 
strike  something  good." 


ROSS    GRANT 

Turning  toward  the  twin  shacks,  he  paused  at 
Lucky's  cabin,  behind  which  he  heard  a  sound. 
He  turned  aside  and  circled  the  place,  discovering, 
in  the  fast  falling  darkness,  Lueky's  packhorse  and 
his  saddle-horse  tethered  to  a  tree. 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Ross  blankly.  "  This  means 
that  Lucky  goes  to-night.  Why  didn't  he  tell  me?  " 

Slowly  the  boy  made  his  way  back  to  the  twin 
cabins.  Here  was  the  reason,  then,  that  Lucky 
had  been  gone  so  long  after  water ;  he  was  round 
ing  up  his  horses.  "  Queer  he  didn't  tell  me," 
muttered  Ross  again. 

When  he  reached  the  cabin,  Lucky  stood  in  the 
doorway  of  Trigger's  cabin,  while  Tod  occupied 
the  doorway  opposite. 

"  I  found  my  packhoss  back  there  among  the 
bushes,"  Lucky  was  saying,  "  and  took  'im  up  and 
tethered  'im  alongside  my  cabin." 

"  Goin'  to  Miners'  after  the  sticks  to-night, 
then?"  remarked  Tod. 

Lucky  nodded.  "Guess  so,  providin'  you'll  take 
my  place  in  here.  Will  ye?"  jerking  his  head 
toward  the  sick  man's  bunk. 

"  Nothin'  surer  !  "  responded  Tod. 

"  Then  I'll  turn  in  over  t'  my  shack  and  ketch 
a  wink  'r  two  before  startin'."  Lucky  turned  to 
Ross  as  he  spoke,  adding,  "  Guess  I  better  make  it 
over  t'  Camp  to-night.  It's  as  good  a  time  as  any." 

140 


GOLD    HUNTER 

The  light  from  the  candle  within  the  shack  fell 
on  Lucky's  face  as  he  turned.  On  it  lay  an  ex 
pression  that  Ross  could  not  fathom — an  excite 
ment  hardly  suppressed.  The  boy  was  vaguely 
startled  by  it. 

Presently,  however,  tired  by  his  long  tramp  and 
broken  sleep  of  the  few  previous  nights,  the  boy 
lay  down  in  his  bunk  fully  intending  to  remain 
awake  until  Hans  slept  and  then  make  the  trans 
fer  of  the  sheets  of  paper  and  lock  the  real  letter 
up  in  his  chest,  but  scarcely  had  his  head  touched 
the  blankets  before  he  was  asleep. 

He  was  aroused  by  the  noisy  entrance  of  Trig 
ger,  and  started  up  with  a  confused  sense  of  some 
thing  that  must  be  done  at  once.  Trigger  bore  his 
blankets  in  his  arms.  Ross  sat  on  the  side  of  his 
bunk  and  regarded  him  confusedly. 

"I  thought  Tod  was  to  stay,"  he  remarked 
finally. 

Trigger  knelt  with  his  back  to  Ross  and  spread 
out  his  blankets  on  the  floor. 

"  Tod  was  here  last  night.  I  told  'im  t'  roll  in 
his  own  bunk,  and  I'd  snore  my  head  off  over 
here.  That  would  even  things  up  more." 

Ross  looked  toward  the  other  bunk.  Hans  was 
staring  sleeplessly  at  the  newcomer  with  his  blood 
shot  eye. 

"I'll  lie  down  again,"  thought  Ross,  "but  I 

141 


ROSS    GRANT 

will  not  sleep  until  I've  attended  to  the  letter." 
He  spoke  sternly  to  himself,  but  sternness  did  not 
suffice  to  keep  him  awake. 

The  next  thing  that  he  realized  he  was  lying 
on  his  back,  one  arm  thrown  across  his  face,  and 
his  eyes  fixed  confusedly  on  Trigger  standing  be 
side  the  other  bunk. 

Above  the  candle  the  man  held  the  letter — 
— the  sick  man's  letter — in  hands  which  shook 
like  quaking  asp  leaves,  and  on  his  face  was  an 
expression  of  eager  amazement. 

Before  Ross  was  thoroughly  aroused,  Trigger 
had  left  the  shack  with  the  letter  in  his  hand. 
The  boy  threw  off  his  blankets,  and  sat  up.  The 
door  of  the  cabin  stood  open.  Outside  he  heard 
the  sibilant  hiss  of  whispers,  and  the  sound  of 
matches  struck  into  a  flame.  A  hundred  thoughts 
flashed  through  his  mind.  This,  then,  was  the 
way  Sandy  had  been  working — through  the  im 
pulsive  Trigger.  Ross's  first  excited  determination 
was  to  face  the  two  and  demand  the  instant  return 
of  the  letter.  Then  came  the  steadying  reflection 
that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  take  away  the 
knowledge  that  a  scrutiny  of  the  mapped  trail  had 
already  given  them,  and  equally  impossible  for 
him  to  prevent  their  acting  on  that  knowledge. 
But  Lucky — had  Lucky  already  started  ?  He 
held  his  watch  up  to  the  light  of  the  candle.  It 

142 


THE    MAN    HELD   THE    LETTER 


GOLD    HUNTER 

was  three  o'clock.  The  moon  had  long  since 
arisen,  and  Lucky  was  on  his  way  to  Miners' 
Camp. 

With  a  feeling  of  profound  helplessness  Ross  lay 
down,  drew  up  the  blankets,  and  resumed  his 
former  position  with  his  arm  across  his  face. 
Scarcely  was  his  arm  in  place  when  Trigger  came 
back,  tiptoed  to  the  bunk  of  the  sick  man,  and 
slipped  the  letter  under  his  pillow.  Then  with  a 
sharp  look  at  Ross  he  caught  up  his  cap  and  slicker, 
and  left  the  shack  again  ;  and  there  fell  on  the 
listener's  ears  the  tramp  of  two  pairs  of  feet  grow 
ing  fainter  and  fainter  in  their  progress  toward 
the  Pass. 


143 


CHAPTER  VII 

A    PUZZLING   SITUATION 

As  the  sound  of  the  steps  died  away,  Ross  came 
out  of  his  bunk  with  a  bound.  Stepping  into  his 
shoes,  he  threw  his  coat  across  his  shoulders,  and 
ran  out-of-doors.  In  the  shadow  of  the  snoring 
Tod's  shack  he  stopped,  and  looked  toward  the 
Pass. 

Behind  the  head  of  Elk  hung  a  great  full  moon 
swimming  in  a  sea  of  its  own  brilliant  light,  which 
turned  the  blue  of  the  sky  into  a  velvety  black, 
and  trailed  long  shadows  after  two  figures  moving 
rapidly  across  the  valley.  With  Trigger,  Ross  had 
no  difficulty  in  recognizing  Sandy.  At  the  edge 
of  the  deep  shadow  cast  by  Elk  Mountain  the 
horses  were  grazing.  As  Sandy  and  Trigger  ap 
proached  the  horses,  a  third  figure  came  out  of  the 
shadow  and  joined  them. 

"  Waymart !  "  muttered  Ross. 

The  three  stood  a  long  time  together.  Then  the 
shadows  swallowed  up  two  figures,  while  the  third 
moved  about,  led  out  a  horse  into  the  light,  and 
went  through  a  variety  of  motions  the  result  of 
which  Ross  could  not  see.  Half  an  hour  passed. 

144 


GOLD    HUNTER 

To  Ross,  shivering  beside  Tod's  cabin,  it  seemed 
hours.  When  the  other  two  men  finally  emerged 
from  the  darkness  of  Elk's  shadows,  all  three  cut 
their  horses  from  the  bunch,  saddled  up,  and  rode 
off.  They  were  evidently  prepared  for  an  imme 
diate  journey  from  that  spot.  As  they  crossed  the 
path  of  light  which  marked  the  entrance  to  the 
Pass,  Ross  saw  that  Waymart  was  leading  a  loaded 
packhorse.  He  had  been  cinching  its  wooden  sad 
dle  and  putting  finishing  touches  to  its  loading 
during  the  absence  of  Sandy  and  Trigger.  The 
four  animals  crossed  the  path  of  light,  and  entered 
the  Pass  at  a  gallop. 

Not  until  the  last  horse  had  disappeared  did 
Ross,  chagrined  and  heavy-hearted,  return  to  his 
bunk,  but  not  to  sleep.  What  an  account  he  must 
render  to  Lucky  !  Lucky  had  been  so  anxious  to 
have  the  letter  locked  up,  and  he  had  slept  through 
his  opportunity  of  securing  it.  But  he  had  had  no 
reason  to  suspect  Trigger.  Had  Lucky  suspected 
him?  It  was  a  question  that  Ross  could  not  an 
swer,  but  a  new  significance  attached  to  the  fact 
that  Lucky  had  asked  Tod  to  take  his  place  that 
night  rather  than  Trigger,  although  Tod  had  been 
up  the  night  before.  In  the  light  of  this  new  de 
velopment,  certain  phases  of  Lucky's  manner  dur 
ing  the  last  two  days  took  on  a  new  significance. 
Ross  believed  now  that  Lucky  had  come  to  sus- 


ROSS    GRANT 

pect  the  result  of  Sandy's  sudden  intimacy  with 
Trigger. 

"  Everything  is  plain  now  that  it's  too  late  to 
thwart  Sandy/'  Ross  told  himself,  with  a  feeling 
of  resentment  against  Lucky.  If  only  Lucky  had 
put  him  on  his  guard  against  Trigger ! 

It  was  like  Sandy  to  work  through  Trigger,  in 
whose  shack  the  sick  man  lay.  Ross  could  have 
kept  Sandy  out,  but  could  not  have  kept  out  the 
owner  of  the  shack.  Perhaps,  after  all,  he  could 
not  have  prevented  what  had  occurred. 

At  last  dawn  came,  and  the  Toddler  began  to 
rattle  the  pans  and  skillets,  yawn  at  the  top  of  his 
lungs  with  many  vocal  flourishes  to  the  process,  at 
the  same  time  slamming  the  door  of  the  stove  and 
banging  down  the  covers.  Whatever  Tod  did,  he 
did  noisily  and  cheerfully.  Sound  seemed  neces 
sary  to  his  comfort. 

"  Where  in  the  nation's  name  is  that  good-for- 
nothin'  Trig  ?  "  he  asked  when  Ross  presented  him 
self,  heavy  eyed,  for  breakfast. 

It  was  a  question  which  Ross  had  anticipated, 
and  answered  readily,  as  he  pushed  a  wooden  box 
up  to  the  table  and  bestrode  it.  "  I  don't  know  ; 
but,  if  you  do,  I  wish  you'd  tell  me.  I  saw  him 
and  Sandy  and  Way  mart  ride  through  the  Pass 
this  morning  at  three  o'clock,  and  they  took  a 
loaded  packhorse  with  'em." 

146 


GOLD   HUNTER 

Tod  dropped  his  knife,  shoved  his  tin  cup  of 
thick  coffee  from  him,  and  stared  at  Ross  in  amaze 
ment.  Then  he  leaned  back,  slapped  his  leg,  and 
guffawed  loudly.  "  Say,  Doc,  ever  see  things  at 
night  before  you  come  to  Wyoming  ?  " 

Ross  flushed  angrily,  and  then  swallowed  his 
resentment  with  a  flapjack.  "  If  I  could,  I'd  lay 
a  lot  of  things  to  dreams,"  he  declared.  "  Find 
out  for  yourself.  Trig  isn't  in  sight,  is  he  ?  And 
where  are  Sandy  and  Waymart?  " 

Tod  stared  again,  and  then,  arising,  went  to  the 
door.  Looking  in  the  direction  of  the  tent,  he  ut 
tered  a  low  exclamation,  and  started  toward  it  at 
a  lumbering  run.  Ross  followed.  Tod  ran  past 
the  cold  stove,  and,  stooping,  looked  into  the  tent. 

"  Doc,  you're  right !  "  he  cried.  "  There  ain't 
hide  ner  hair  of  supplies  here.  Flour  sack's  gone, 
skillet's  gone,  pans,  bacon,  blankets — where  ?  "  He 
faced  Ross  with  an  excitement  so  genuine  that  the 
latter  was  convinced  that  he  had  neither  part  nor 
parcel  in  the  scheme. 

"But  I'll  let  Lucky  tell  whatever  he  wants  told 
when  he  comes  home,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  It's 
his  business,  and  I'll  leave  him  to  manage  it." 

To  the  astonished  Toddler  he  reiterated  the  tale 
he  had  already  told,  adding :  "  I  heard  them 
moving  about,  and  got  up  in  time  to  see  the  three 
saddle  up  and  ride  off.  They  must  have  had  sad- 


ROSS    GRANT 

dies  and  everything  else  all  bunched  together  ovei 
there.'1  He  pointed  to  a  huge  boulder  at  the  foot 
of  Elk  near  Lucky's  cabin. 

Over  and  over  Tod  threshed  the  matter  out. 
"  That  was  one  for  Trig  to  play  on  me,"  he  scowled 
finally,  "  deserting  this  way  without  a  word  and 
with  Hans  down.  But,  Doc,  I'll  tell  you  how  the 
land  lays,  probably.  Trigger  is  gold  mad.  He's 
a  cow-puncher  by  trade,  you  know — or  maybe  you 
don't ;  and  last  year  his  horse  bucked  on  him  and 
almost  killed  'im.  Then  Trig  lost  his  nerve,  and 
took  to  prospectin' ;  and  he's  gone  plumb  quartz 
crazy.  And  as  for  Sandy  " — Tod  hunched  his 
shoulders — "  well,  Sandy  is  as  full  of  schemes  as 
a  dog  is  of  fleas,  and  I'll  gamble  that  he's  caught 
Trig  in  one.  I'm  sorry  he's  got  hold  of  old  Trig. 
He  don't  know  Sandy  very  well,  Trig  don't,  and 
nobody  has  informed  him  extensively.  Trig  come 
out  of  Montana.  He  hain't  lived  long  in  the  same 
county  that  holds  Sandy." 

Ross  filled  the  rusty  stove  with  green  pine  limbs, 
and,  greasing  the  skillet,  poured  in  some  batter. 

"  What  time,"  he  asked  abruptly,  "  do  you  ex 
pect  Lucky  back  ?  " 

Tod  planted  his  left  elbow  more  firmly  on  the 
table,  while  he  steered  his  loaded  knife  toward  his 
mouth.  "  When  he  comes,  and  not  much  be 
fore  ! "  he  made  answer.  "  If  he  comes  at  sun- 

148 


GOLD    HUNTER 

down,  he'll  be  doing  his  duty  by  his  country- 
by  his  tunnel,  rather.     He  can't  afford  to  do  much 
dillydallyin'  this  summer." 

"  Because  he's  behindhand  with  his  work,"  sup 
plemented  Ross  with  an  upward  slide  on  the  re 
mark. 

The  Toddler  nodded.  "  Yes,  this  is  his  fifth 
year."  Here  the  speaker  broke  off  to  ask,  "  Are 
you  wise  to  Wyoming  mining  laws  ?  " 

"  Know  something  about  'em,"  Ross  responded. 
"  Enough  to  be  sure  that  when  a  fellow  doesn't  get 
his  claim  patented  at  the  end  of  the  fifth  year  from 
the  time  he  stakes  it,  Sandy  McKenzie  or  any  one 
else  may  jump  the  claim." 

"Huh,  uh."  Tod  opened  his  lips  over  another 
large  mouthful.  "  That's  the  size  of  it,  and  the 
trouble  now  with  Wyoming,  she's  enforcin'  the 
laws.  We  don't  have  a  law  officer  within  forty 
miles  of  us  except  Dad  Page,  and  he  ain't  on  the 
Lazy  Y  half  the  time,  and  yet  someway,  in  these 
new  and  degenerate  days,  gun  rule  has  sort  of 
gone  out  of  fashion.  Of  course  you  see  chaps 
wandering  around  yet  with  six  shooters  hanging 
to  their  belts  like  Sandy,  but  they  ain't  so  plenty 
by  a  long  run  as  they  used  to  be  when  I  come  in 
here  and  I've  been  here  only  a  matter  of  five  years 
— in  Wyoming,  I  mean.  The  law  and  order  craze 
has  got  hold  of  Wyoming  strong." 

149 


ROSS    GRANT 

"I'm  glad  it  got  a  good  hold  before  I  came," 
commented  Ross  grimly,  "  because  I  can  shoot 
about  as  straight  as  I  can  ride,  and  you  know  what 
sort  of  a  figure  I  cut  in  the  saddle." 

"  You're  right  enough,  Doc,  in  the  saddle  or 
out,"  said  Tod  easily.  He  leaned  back,  one  elbow 
on  the  table,  and  proceeded,  systematically,  to 
clean  out  the  dishes,  one  by  one.  "  If  you  stay 
here  long  enough  and  ride  enough  you'll  pass. 
All  you  need  is  practice." 

"  And  I'm  not  likely  to  get  that,"  exclaimed 
Ross  decidedly.  "  In  ten  days  or  two  weeks  it's 
me  for  old  Pennsy,  where  we  have  automobiles 
and  street  cars  and  steam  cars  on  every  cor 


ner." 


Tod  stretched  his  legs  out  beside  the  table  and 
rested  his  head  on  his  hand.  "  Queer,  Doc,  but 
you  remind  me  of  myself  five  years  ago.  I  come 
out  here  to  look  around  one  summer  between 
schools.  I  was  teaching  school  back  in  York  State 
at  the  time,  and  had  signed  a  contract  for  another 
year's  work  in  the  same  place.  I  come  out  here 
with  a  cousin  who  was  some  afflicted  with  the  gold 
bug.  He'd  been  here  a  couple  of  years.  Well,  I 
came  up  to  Miners'  with  him,  and  we  worked  on 
his  claims.  He  had  offered  me  a  two  spot  a  day 
and  board  and  I  came  along  more  to  see  the  coun 
try  than  to  earn  the  dough.  Well,  at  first  I  felt 

150 


GOLD    HUNTER 

as  you  do,  or  think  you  do  " — here  Tod  gave  the 
boy  a  shrewd  look.  "  The  mountains  got  on  my 
nerve.  The  food  out  of  tin  cans  distressed  me 
until  I  found  I  was  hungry  enough  to  eat  cans 
and  all !  The  hardships  all  made  me  pine  for  the 
East — or  think  I  did !  Well,  the  summer  went 
away,  but  I  didn't !  I  found  in  the  fall  that  I 
had,  somehow,  thrown  up  my  school  and  was  fac 
ing  a  winter  in  Miners'.  I  haven't  been  East 
since.  I  found  I  liked  the  open  and  the  moun 
tains  and — yes,"  with  a  little  chuckle  as  he  reached 
for  another  biscuit,  "  even  the  canned  grub  has  got 
me.  Watch  out,  Doc,  or  the  whole  business  will 
get  you  before  you  know  it !  " 

Ross  shook  his  head.  "  You  see,  I've  wanted  to 
do  one  thing  and  be  one  thing  since  I  went  to  live 
with  my  doctor  uncle,  when  I  was  twelve."  The 
boy  leaned  forward,  speaking  earnestly.  "  I've  al 
ways  had  it  in  mind  since  then  and  worked  toward 
it — I've  wanted  to  be  a  surgeon.  I've  been  a — 
well — we  call  'em  '  grinds  '  in  Pennsylvania  " — he 
flushed  a  little — "  but  I've  had  to  be.  I  am  not 
quick  with  books,  and  you  have  to  have  a  lot  of 
book  work  before  you  begin  the  practice  in  medi 
cine.  So  I've  neglected  the  '  open,'  as  you  call  it, 
and  read  and  studied.  I  hated  even  to  work  in 
the  gym  at  Wyoming  Seminary,  where  I  graduated 
last  year.  I've  lived  with  one  idea  in  my  mind  for 


ROSS    GRANT 

years,  and  now  I  don't  believe  the  wild  and  woolly 
can  turn  me  away." 

"  Probably  not,  Doc,  if  you're  as  set  as  that,  and 
you  looked  pretty  set  to  me  all  along.  Guess  if 
you  begin  a  thing  you  go  through  with  it — looks 
that  way  to  me.  But  Wyoming  got  me,  all  right. 
I  didn't  like  teaching  and  was  marking  time  at  it 
till  I  could  study  the  law.  But  I  guess  the  law 
missed  a  poor  devotee  and  the  mountains  found  a 
good  one." 

The  Toddler  arose  and  stretched  up  his  arms. 
"  I'm  forgettin'  the  language  you  speak  even,"  he 
said  with  a  short,  rueful  laugh.  "  What  with 
punchin'  cows  winters  and  prospectin'  summers, 
I've  dropped  my  '  g's '  mostly.  Some  time  I'll 
probably  speak  in  the  vernacular  as  strongly  as — 
well,  as  Lucky  here — good  old  boy  I  " 

After  Tod  went  up  to  his  tunnel,  Ross  made 
Hans  comfortable,  and  then  sat  dozing  and  think 
ing  in  the  sunshine.  A  dozen  times  an  hour  he 
pulled  out  his  watch  to  measure  off  the  time  before 
Lucky  could  return.  A  dozen  times  he  wandered 
over  to  the  deserted  tent,  and  looked  within.  How 
far  toward  the  Sheep's  Horn  had  the  three  ridden 
now?  he  asked  himself  periodically.  What  would 
they  find  when  they  reached  there?  What  would 
they  do  ? 

The  warm  sun  had  not  the  power  to  dispel  the 

152 


GOLD    HUNTER 

loneliness  which  brooded  over  the  little  valley,  and 
at  noon  he  prepared  dinner  and  eagerly  awaited 
Tod's  coming.  Over  the  "  sour-dough  "  bread  of 
the  latter's  manufacture,  and  jerked-elk  stew,  and 
canned  tomatoes,  Ross  began  to  ask  questions. 
How  far  across  ranges  was  Miners'  Camp  ?  What 
mountains  lay  south  and  east  of  the  Pass  ?  How 
far  away  were  the  Great  Divide  and  Yellowstone 
Park  ?  And  then,  at  last,  none  of  these  questions 
having  elicited  the  desired  answer  : 

"  Where's  that  Sheep's  Horn  Mountain,  Tod,  the 
home  of  the  '  ha'nt '  ?  " 

The  Toddler  dipped  a  spoon  into  the  can  of  con 
densed  milk,  and  stirred  his  coffee.  Then  he 
jerked  his  spoon  over  his  shoulder.  "  Toward  the 
Great  Divide,  pretty  near  the  Park  over  west  of 
here." 

"  How  do  you  get  there  ?  " 

"  Oh,  most  any  old  way,"  responded  Tod  care 
lessly.  "  You  can  go  up  the  South  Fork  and  over 
the  South  Range,  or  you  can  go  through  the  Pass 
and  up  Elk  Crick,  or  go  over  t'  Miners'  Camp,  and 
follow  Wood  River  up  to  the  Divide,  and  then  go 
an  easy  way  across  lots  southwest ;  but  that's  a  long 
way." 

"  How  long  does  it  take  to  go  ?  "  asked  Ross. 

Tod  shook  his  head,  speech  being  momentarily  de 
nied  him.  When  a  laborious  swallow  removed  all 


ROSS    GRANT 

obstacles  to  speech,  he  said  carelessly  :  "  Depends 
on  way  you  take.  I  went  up  the  South  Fork. 
That's  the  shortest  way  and  makes  less  'n  a  two- 
day  hike  from  here." 

When  Tod  arose  from  the  table,  he  checked  a 
yawn  to  say  :  "  Don't  forget,  Doc,  that  I'm  on  the 
outlook  to-day.  If  you  need  help  with  Hans,  hang 
out  your  towel,  and  I'll  be  on  deck." 

"  Don't  think  there's  any  chance  of  my  needing 
you,"  Ross  responded.  "  Hans  is  getting  along 
finely.  He  doesn't  bother  much.  Neither  Trig 
nor  I  was  up  last  night — that  is,"  in  some  con 
fusion,  "  until  Trig  went  away." 

Tod  chuckled.  Already  his  resentment  against 
Trigger  had  faded.  Tod  could  not  hold  resentment 
long.  "  I  hope  I'm  around  when  you  tell  Lucky. 
I  want  to  see  how  he  takes  Trig's  hikin'  out  this 
way  without  warnin'.  Lucky's  helped  Trig  a  lot 
this  year,  same  as  he  has  me.  We're  newer  to  this 
business  than  he,  Trig  and  I  are.  Lucky  is  an  old 
stager." 

The  next  three  hours  passed  slowly  for  Ross. 
He  washed  the  dishes,  cleaned  up  both  shacks,  and 
waited  on  Hans,  glancing  every  few  moments  at 
the  Pass  in  the  vain  hope  that  he  might  see  Lucky 
riding  through.  He  talked  with  his  patient. 
That  is,  he  spoke  slowly  and  distinctly  in  English, 
and  Hans  seemed  to  understand  a  little.  Then  he 


GOLD    HUNTER 

responded  rapidly,  although  weakly,  in  German ; 
and  Ross  understood  nothing.  But  one  word  ar 
rested  his  attention,  "  golt,"  a  word  that  Hans  had 
reiterated  so  often  in  feverish  sleep  as  he  pushed  at 
the  logs  beside  his  bunk. 

"  I'll  look  that  word  up/'  muttered  Ross  pres 
ently.  He  opened  his  chest,  which  he  did  not 
keep  locked,  it  being  nearly  empty,  and  took  up 
his  German  dictionary.  "  Hans  says  golt,  but  he 
no  doubt  means  gold.  Yes,  here  it  is.  He's  been 
digging  for  it  already,  poor  fellow,  among  the 
logs,"  Ross  said  aloud. 

He  sat  down  on  his  chest,  and  with  the  diction 
ary  still  in  hfs  hands  planted  an  elbow  on  his 
knees,  and  watched  Hans,  who  had  fallen  asleep. 
"  By  this  time,"  he  thought,  "  his  claims  may  be 
jumped,  and  ^Waymart  making  camp  on  'em.  I 
wonder  if  Lucky  will  follow  up  the  jumpers." 

He  had  raised  the  lid  of  his  chest  to  return  the 
book,  when  a  sudden  recollection  caused  him  to 
straighten  up.  Taking  the  dictionary  by  the 
covers,  he  turned  it  upside  down  and  shook  it. 
Nothing  fell  out. 

"  I  left  that  paper  in  here,"  he  declared  aloud. 

With  his  foot  on  the  chest  and  the  book  on  his 
knee,  he  searched  from  cover  to  cover.  No  paper 
appeared.  Opening  the  chest,  with  puckered  lips, 
he  looked  through  its  contents  hastily.  Still  no 


ROSS    GRANT 

paper.  Then,  dropping  on  his  knees,  he  made  a 
thorough  investigation.  He  unfolded  every  article 
of  clothing,  and  went  through  the  two  or  three 
medical  books  which  the  chest  contained.  Then 
he  arose  to  his  feet,  and  stared  down  in  perplexity. 
The  paper  which  he  had  intended  to  substitute  for 
the  letter  was  gone.  He  could  not  understand  it. 

He  passed  his  hand  across  his  face  in  confusion. 
There  was  something  which  he  ought  to  remember 
in  this  connection,  and  could  not.  He  went  to 
the  door,  and  looked  up  at  Elk.  Again  he  saw  in 
his  mind's  eye  the  three  men  crossing  the  path  of 
bright  moonlight  and  entering  the  dark  shadows 
of  the  Pass,  and  the  recollection  brought  him  the 
thing  he  was  struggling  to  grasp.  It  was  the 
expression  on  Trigger's  face  when  Ross  opened  his 
eyes  on  Trigger  standing  over  the  candle  with  the 
letter — the  expression  of  astonishment.  Whirling 
on  his  heel,  he  went  to  the  bunk  of  the  sleeping 
Hans,  drew  out  the  letter  boldly,  though  cau 
tiously,  and  opened  it. 

The  original  sheet  was  gone,  and  in  its  place 
was  the  paper  he  had  left  in  his  dictionary ! 
Trigger's  amazement  was  explained. 

The  sheet  contained  a  long  line  with  many  turns 
and  angles.  Along  its  length  were  meaningless 
names.  There  were  "  Smith  "  and  "  Jones  "  and 
"  Lucky  "  and  "  Trigger  "  and  "  Toddler,"  and  the 

156 


GOLD    HUNTER 

names  of  men  he  had  known  in  Miners7  Camp, 
written  along  the  margin  of  the  paper  so  that  to 
the  dim  vision  of  the  sick  man  it  would  resemble 
the  chart  his  brother  had  made. 

Hastily  replacing  the  sheet,  Ross  tiptoed  out-of- 
doors.  He  believed  he  saw  it  all  now,  and  there 
was  but  one  way  of  expressing  his  joy  at  the  result 
as  long  as  he  could  not  indulge  in  yells.  With  a 
broad  grin  he  turned  a  series  of  clumsy  hand 
springs.  Bringing  up  at  the  door  of  Tod's  shack, 
he  sat  down  to  gloat  over  that  expression  on 
Trigger's  face.  Lucky  had  prudently  taken  the 
real  letter  with  him.  He  must  have  made  the 
transfer  when  Ross  had  gone  for  a  tramp.  It  was 
odd  that  he  did  not  wait  to  tell  what  he  had  done, 
but  that  was  an  item  over  which  the  boy  did  not 
linger  now.  Lucky  had  the  letter;  Sandy  and 
Trigger  were  fooled.  That  was  enough. 

Pulling  out  his  watch,  Ross  whistled  as  he 
looked  at  it.  It  was  five  o'clock  and  nearly  time 
for  Lucky  to  appear  in  the  Pass. 

Six  o'clock  came  and  went.  Ross  got  supper, 
and  was  making  jerked-elk  broth  for  the  sick  man 
when  Tod  appeared  with  a  tale  of  woe. 

"  I  smashed  my  pick  handle,  and  am  out  a 
pick,"  he  grumbled.  "  Trig's  taken  his  to  parts 
unknown,  and  Lucky's  ain't  worth  a  plunk,  not 
the  one  up  in  the  tunnel.  If  mine  had  only  given 

157 


ROSS    GRANT 

out  yesterday,  I  could  have  sent  over  to  Camp  for 
one.  As  it  is,  I'll  have  to  borrow  Lucky's  new 
one.  I'm  sure  he's  got  one  in  his  shack." 

Tod  seated  his  bulky  form  on  a  box  beside  the 
table,  and  fell  to  with  a  will  on  the  food  of  Ross's 
preparation. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  before  the  reds  and  yellows 
of  the  sunset  faded  from  the  tops  of  the  snow 
capped  mountains,  and  twilight  fell  on  Elk's  Pass. 
Ross  sat  in  the  doorway  of  Tod's  shack,  straining 
his  eyes  toward  the  narrow  cut  in  the  huge  moun 
tain  through  which  Lucky  must  come.  Tod  was 
lighting  a  fire  inside  the  shack,  for  the  nights  were 
always  cold. 

"  Tod,"  asked  Ross  finally,  "  is  it  possible  that 
Lucky  won't  get  here  to-night  ?  " 

Tod  came  to  the  door,  and  looked  out.  "  Looks 
that  way.  He  won't  come  across  Spar  in  the  dark 
ness  with  dynamite  aboard,  and  the  moon  won't 
get  up  till  one  to-night.  Nope.  Guess  it's  little 
me  and  you  alone  here  to-night.  There's  nothin' 
doin'  but  coyotes,  though,"  he  added  encourag 
ingly,  with  a  smile  at  the  boy.  "  Shouldn't  be  a 
bit  surprised  to  find  us  all  alive  and  kickin'  in  the 


morninV 


Ross  smiled  faintly.  "  I  wasn't  thinking  about 
— us."  He  hesitated,  resisting  an  impulse  to  tell 
Tod  the  whole  thing ;  for  a  new  fear  had  assailed 

158 


GOLD    HUNTER 

him,  and  the  alarming  idea  that  Lucky  would  not 
reach  the  Pass  that  night  intensified  it.  Why, 
when  the  McKenzies  and  Trigger  failed  to  find 
out  what  they  wanted  to  know  from  the  letter, 
had  they  gone  away  with  a  pack  outfit?  Why 
had  they  gone  at  all  ?  Did  they  suspect  that 
Lucky  had  taken  the  letter  with  him,  and  had 
they  gone  to  meet  him,  three  against  one  ?  Ross 
arose,  and  moved  about  restlessly. 

Tod  arranged  the  draughts,  put  on  his  coat, 
and,  humming  cheerfully,  went  out  and  sat  down 
on  the  rock  at  the  corner  of  his  cabin,  where  Ross 
presently  joined  him,  undecided  what  to  do. 

"  Well,  Doc/'  yawned  Tod,  "  guess  I'll  hike  over 
to  Lucky's  cabin,  and  lend  myself  his  pick. 
There's  nothin'  like  bein'  friendly  with  every  one 
around  you,  especially  if  every  one  ain't  near 
enough  to  object." 

Ross  started  up  eagerly.  "  Let  me  go.  I've  not 
been  out  to-day.  You  stay  with  Hans." 

Tod  sank  back  to  the  rock.  "  All  right,  Doc. 
My  legs  need  a  rest  as  bad  as  yours  need  to  move. 
Go  on,  and  you  needn't  be  in  any  hurry  about 
gettin'  back.  Just  shoulder  the  pick,  and  do  a 
stroke  or  two  of  work  up  in  my  tunnel  if  you're 
dyin'  for  a  little  exercise." 

Ross  went  slowly  across  the  valley,  his  head 
bent  and  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  The  sunless 


ROSS    GRANT 

air  struck  sharply  against  his  face  with  icy  fingers. 
He  shivered,  and  quickened  his  pace.  By  the 
time  he  had  reached  Lucky's  cabin  he  had  de 
cided  to  take  Tod  into  his  confidence  on  his 
return. 

The  shack  stood  under  the  shadow  of  the  boul 
ders  of  Elk  Mountain.  Ross  had  been  there  before, 
and  knew  where  everything  stood,  the  bunk,  the 
stove,  the  tools,  Lucky's  entire  outfit,  in  short. 
The  door  was  open,  and  through  the  doorway  and 
the  open  window  enough  light  streamed  to  enable 
Ross  to  see  the  interior  distinctly  as  he  entered. 
The  tools,  he  knew,  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bunk ; 
and  he  was  half-way  across  the  dirt  floor,  absorbed 
in  his  own  thoughts,  before  he  noticed  anything 
strange  in  the  shack.  Then  he  stopped,  and  looked 
about  him  in  amazement. 

The  tools  were  not  at  the  foot  of  the  bunk.  The 
bunk  itself  was  empty  of  blankets.  Only  the  coarse 
hay  remained.  One  of  the  two  sacks  of  flour  which 
had  stood  beside  the  stove  was  gone.  Gone  were 
skillets  and  stew-pan,  ham  and  side  of  bacon,  and 
supply  of  jerked-elk  meat.  Ross  went  over  to  the 
table,  and  looked  into  a  large  wooden  box  of  canned 
stuff.  Half  the  cans  were  missing. 

With  his  hands  hanging  beside  him  and  his 
forehead  contracted  into  a  deep  furrow  of  per 
plexity  he  stood  for  a  long  time  in  front  of  that 

160 


GOLD    HUNTER 

box,  staring  at  the  contents.  Finally  he  brought 
a  clinched  fist  down  on  the  table,  and  exclaimed 
aloud : 

"  It  can't  be.  I  know  Lucky  wouldn't  do  such 
a  thing ! " 

He  returned  on  slow,  reluctant  feet  to  Tod.  He 
was  trying  to  reason  out  what  he  had  seen  on 
other  than  reasonable  grounds.  He  assured  him 
self  that  the  McKenzies  had  made  off  with  Lucky's 
supplies,  even  while  his  common  sense  told  him 
that  they  had  more  supplies  of  their  own  than  one 
packhorse  could  carry  and  they  had  taken  but 
one  with  them. 

Tod's  voice  came  out  of  the  darkness  beside  the 
door  of  the  shack.  "  Well,  where's  the  pick  ?  Or 
did  you  forget  what  you'd  gone  for  before  you 
went?" 

"  Neither."  Ross  hesitated,  and  then  burst  out, 
"  Tod,  Lucky  took  all  his  tools  and  supplies  with 
him." 

Tod  arose.  "  Now,  see  here,  Doc.  I'm  ready 
to  believe  anything  that's  reasonable,  but  there's 
some  things  that  nobody  can  stuff  down  my 
throat." 

Ross  entered  the  shack.  "  Go  and  see  for  your 
self,"  he  said  quietly. 

Tod  went.  He  abandoned  his  usual  slow  gait, 
and  strode  breathlessly  across  the  valley.  In  a 

161 


ROSS    GRANT 

few  moments  he  was  back  again.  He  came  into 
the  shack,  and  sat  down  on  the  bench  beside  the 
stove.  For  a  minute  no  one  spoke.  Tod  clasped 
his  hands  about  his  knee,  and  leaned  forward, 
examining  the  stove  intently.  Finally  he  straight 
ened  up,  and  looked  sharply  at  Ross. 

"  Doc,  is  this  place  bewitched  ?  What's  goin' 
on  ?  Have  you  any  idea  ?  " 

Ross  finished  dressing  Hans'  face  before  answer 
ing.  "  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know  to-morrow  noon  if 
Lucky  doesn't  come  before.  If  he  does  come — 
why,  it's  his  business  to  explain  as  much  as  he 
wants  to." 

A  moment  longer  Tod  looked  narrowly  at  the 
boy,  and  then  nodded.  Nor  did  he  refer  to  the 
subject  again. 

The  following  morning  the  two  ate  breakfast  in 
silence,  and  in  silence  Tod  left  the  shack  for  the 
tunnel,  prepared  to  make  a  new  handle  for  his 
pick.  Left  alone,  Ross  busied  himself  all  the 
morning,  going  restlessly  from  one  thing  to 
another  and  from  one  shack  to  the  other.  And 
every  time  he  passed  a  door  or  went  into  the  open 
he  looked  longingly  at  the  Pass. 

Noon  brought  Tod,  but  not  Lucky.  Ross  had 
prepared  dinner  again,  and  left  Tod  to  eat  alone 
while  he  got  Hans'  dinner.  He  lingered  at  this, 
dreading  the  task  he  had  promised  Tod  he  would 

162 


GOLD    HUNTER 

perform  at  noon,  knowing  that  his  tale  would  in 
criminate  Lucky.  Finally,  having  no  further  ex 
cuse  for  lingering  with  Hans,  he  crossed  to  the 
other  shack,  and  sat  down  to  a  cold  dinner.  Tod 
had  finished,  and  was  sitting  on  his  box,  his  hands 
clasping  one  foot  thrown  over  the  other  knee, 
stoically  awaiting  Ross's  story. 

He  heard  it  through  without  stirring  or  taking 
his  eyes  from  a  point  where  Elk  sends  up  a  giant 
arm  from  the  summit  of  its  mass,  and  rends  the 
sky.  When  Ross  had  finished,  he  still  said  noth 
ing,  but,  arising  laboriously,  poked  the  fire,  and, 
pulling  the  skillet  forward,  proceeded  with  mad 
dening  deliberation  to  bake  some  hot  flapjacks. 

Ross,  unhungry,  watched  him  impatiently,  as 
he  poured  in  the  batter  and  slowly  baked  it  on 
one  side,  and,  tossing  the  pancake  in  the  air, 
caught  it  again  on  the  skillet  and  returned  it  to 
the  fire. 

"  Eat,  Doc,"  urged  Tod  laconically,  setting  the 
cakes  in  front  of  the  boy. 

"  I  can't !  "  Ross  burst  out.  "  Why  don't  you 
say  what  you  think  ?  " 

Tod  settled  himself  on  his  box  again.  "  Can't,"  he 
returned  nonchalantly.  "  There  ain't  time  enough 
to  spare,  nor  words  enough  in  the  dictionary.  But, 
Doc,  I'll  say  j  ust  this  much  :  No  matter  what  Lucky 
seems  to  have  done  or  not  done,  there  ain't  a  mean 

163 


ROSS    GRANT 

hair  in  his  head.  I've  lived  near  him  off  and  on 
for  five  years,  and  I  know." 

Impulsively  Ross  sprang  to  his  feet.  Grasping 
Tod's  hand,  he  wrung  it  gratefully. 

"  If  you  feel  that  way  about  him,"  grinned  Tod, 
returning  the  grip  with  interest,  "  we'll  set  down 
and  talk  things  over." 

Just  then  his  glance  was  arrested  by  something 
seen  through  the  open  door.  He  uttered  an  ex 
clamation,  and  pointed. 

"  Look  here,  Doc.  See  what's  hikin'  through 
the  Pass  I " 


164 


CHAPTER  VIII 

DISTURBING   NEWS 

Ross  reached  Tod's  side  with  one  step,  and,  see 
ing  a  solitary  horseman  riding  beneath  the  ledge 
at  the  further  end  of  the  gorge,  cried  excitedly  : 
"  Lucky  !  It's  Lucky  !  " 

"  No,  it  ain't,  more's  the  pity,"  responded  Tod. 
"  It's  Trig." 

He  turned  his  back  on  the  Pass,  and  looked 
sidewise  at  the  boy.  "  Maybe  it'll  help  Trig  to 
rest  nights  if  he  don't  know  what  we  know,  and 
it  won't  spoil  our  rest  either  way." 

Ross,  watching  the  slow  advance  of  the  horse 
man,  glanced  up  with  a  quick  nod.  "  I  under 
stand,"  he  said.  "  I'll  follow  your  lead." 

"And,"  added  Tod  meditatively,  "I'll  begin 
educatin'  'im  on  the  subject  of  Sandy.  It  won't 
be  many  days  before  he'll  be  wise." 

Trigger  rode  across  the  valley  with  an  elaborate 
carelessness  which  was  so  foreign  to  his  usual  im 
petuosity  that  it  was  ludicrous.  He  threw  one 
knee  over  the  pommel,  and  began  to  whistle  "  The 
Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me."  As  he  approached  the 

165 


ROSS    GRANT 

shack,  he  let  out  a  stentorian  voice :  "  Hello,  in 
there  I  Ye  gittin'  deef,  everybody  ?  " 

"  Deef?  "  yelled  Tod.  "  Deef  nothing  !  We're 
fairly  stunned,  Trig,  with  the  discovery  we  have 
a  full  fledged  prima  donna  in  our  midst — a  reg 
ular  Mr.  Jennie  Lind  !  What  you  been  up  to  all 
these  years,  hidin'  your  talent  under  a  bushel 
basket  ?  " 

"  I'm  whistlin'  to  encourage  my  bread  basket 
not  t'  collapse  yet  a  while ! "  shouted  Trigger. 
"  Ye'll  find  that  it's  a  bushel  basket  when  ye've 
cooked  enough  t'  fill  it !  Rustle  a  few  dozen  flap 
jacks  fer  a  starvin'  man,  will  ye  ?  " 

Tod  appeared  in  the  doorway,  his  fat  face  wear 
ing  a  broad  grin.  "  Ever  since  I  was  born,  Trig, 
I've  heard  that  the  starvin'  man  should  be  given 
a  bite  at  a  time,  with  bites  a  long  way  apart. 
That's  how  we'll  treat  you,  hey  ?  " 

"  Not  s'  long  as  I'm  able  t'  sling  ye  out  of  the 
shack  with  one  hand  roped  behind  me  !  "  retorted 
Trigger.  "  This  here  brand  of  starvation  calls  for 
a  bite  every  second  for  an  hour  stiddy." 

Tod  stuffed  his  hands  into  his  pockets.  "  You 
old  jackanapes,  you,"  he  asked  easily,  "where 
have  you  been  ?  And  where  is  Sandy  ?  And 
where's  Waymart  ?  And  where's  all  their  sup 
plies?" 

The  rider  dismounted  and  began  to  unsaddle. 

166 


GOLD   HUNTER 

There  was  a  certain  shamefacedness  about  him 
which  his  assumed  carelessness  did  not  conceal. 
He  lingered  long  at  the  saddle  and  bridle,  multi 
plying  difficulties  with  cinch  and  bit. 

"  Wall,  as  t'  Sandy  and  Waymart,  they're  over 
t'  Miners'.  Part  of  their  grub  is  there,  too,  the 
part,"  facetiously,  "  that  ain't  inside  of  us." 

"  What's  up  over  at  the  Camp?  "  was  Tod's  next 
question,  instead  of  the  ones  Ross  would  have 
liked  to  have  him  ask.  But  Ross  understood 
now  that  the  mountains  were  a  world  inside  of  a 
world,  and  the  mountaineers  followed  a  rule  of 
conduct,  unwritten,  but  closely  observed,  a  rule 
that  excluded  the  asking  of  many  personal  ques 
tions. 

"  Wall,"  answered  Trigger  from  the  further  side 
of  his  horse,  "  there  ain't  enough  news  t'  run  a 
daily  paper,  as  I  noticed.  Still,  there's  some 
doinV 

"  Always  are."  Tod  still  stood  in  the  doorway 
watching  the  other.  "  You  can  always  pick  up  a 
few  head-lines  over  there.  What  are  they  ?  " 

"  Grasshopper  Jim  got  caught  with  his  freight 
outfit  below  Gale's  Ridge  t'other  day  ;  I  guess  that's 
the  most.  Leastwise  Bill  Travers  thinks  it  is. 
Bill  had  t'  git  all  hands  out  of  the  stage  and  build 
an  addition  onto  the  trail  where  it  bulges  over  the 
river  jest  above  the  first  bridge.  Of  course  neither 

167 


ROSS    GRANT 

Grasshopper  ner  Bill  could  pass  ner  back  up  ner 
turn  'round." 

"How's  that?"  asked  Ross.  "I  don't  under 
stand." 

"  Trail's  too  narrow  above  the  Meadows  for  any 
meetin'  that  isn't  on  horseback,"  Tod  explained. 
"  Grasshopper  should  have  waited  on  the  Meadows 
for  the  stage." 

"  That's  the  idee,"  affirmed  Trigger.  "  He  knew 
it  was  stage  time,  and  he  should  have  waited. 
But  he  come  right  along  and  all  hands  had  to 
turn  to  and  build  the  trail  out  the  width  of  the 
stage  for  a  rod,  and  then  hold  the  stage  right  side 
up,  while  Grasshopper  got  the  freight  wagon  past. 
Grasshopper  had  a  big  load  and  eight  broncs 
puffin'." 

"  I  should  think  one  of  the  mining  companies 
over  there  would  widen  out  that  trail  for  a  few 
miles  up  near  camp,"  said  Tod  meditatively. 
"  They  could  put  it  into  their  development  work 
and  have  it  count  in  patenting  the  claims." 

He  retired  into  the  cabin  and  began  to  mix  bat 
ter  as  unconcernedly  as  though  Trigger  was  com 
ing  in  from  a  day's  work  on  the  side  of  Elk. 
Presently  the  room  was  filled  again  with  an  appe 
tizing  odor.  Trigger  entered,  washed  in  a  basin 
beside  the  water  pail  and  straddled  a  box  beside 
the  table.  He  recounted  other  "  head-lines "  of 

168 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Miners'  Camp  rapidly  and  with  some  incoherence, 
his  eyes  sliding  away  from  Ross's  steady  gaze  un 
comfortably.  Tod  baked  flapjacks  without  evin 
cing  any  further  inclination  to  watch  the  new 
comer,  who,  Ross  observed,  did  not  seem  to  notice 
the  absence  of  Lucky,  nor  make  inquiries  concern 
ing  Hans. 

Finally,  with  steaming  coffee,  boiled  beans,  and 
a  pile  of  flapjacks  before  him,  Trigger  found  a  con 
venient  resting  place  for  his  eyes  and  became  more 
at  ease.  "  Don't  know  when  Sandy  and  Waymart 
are  comin'  after  their  tent  and  t'other  bosses,"  he 
volunteered.  "  They  said  they  was  goin'  t'  hike 
down  t'  Meeteetse  to-morrer." 

"  They  don't  like  the  climate  up  at  the  Pass, 
then,"  commented  Tod  sarcastically.  "The  cli 
mate  of  most  places  don't  agree  with  their  healths 
long,  especially  Sandy's  !  " 

Trigger  looked  up  quickly  ;  but  Tod  was  filling 
the  stove  with  wood,  and  did  not  see  the  look. 
Slamming  the  cover  down  noisily,  he  asked,  as 
though  the  idea  had  but  that  moment  arrived  : 
"  Say,  Trig  !  Which  of  you  dumped  Lucky  over 
the  Spar  trail  ?  " 

Trigger  upset  a  spoonful  of  sugar  on  the  way  to 
his  cup.  His  voice  was  painfully  constrained. 
"  Lucky  ?  Where's  Lucky  ?  Ain't  he  here  ?  " 

"  Where,  for  instance  ?  Doc,  uncover  that  box 

169 


ROSS    GRANT 

of  beans,  and   see   if  he   has  cached  himself  in 
there," 

Trigger  conveyed  another  spoonful  of  sugar  to 
his  cup.  "  I  hain't  seen  hide  ner  hair  of  Lucky." 

Ross  leaned  forward  and  spoke  sharply,  "  Trig 
ger,  is  that  straight  goods?  " 

"  That's  straight  goods,  Doc,"  returned  Trigger 
solemnly,  as  he  bent  over  his  cup. 

"  Didn't  you  run  on  his  trail  in  any  way?  "  per 
sisted  Ross,  while  Tod  gazed  curiously  at  the  new 
comer. 

Trigger  looked  steadily  at  the  questioner.  "  No, 
Doc,  we  didn't  run  onto  his  trail,  and  what's  more, 
we  didn't  see  no  one  that  had  run  onto  it."  So 
earnest  was  his  denial  that  the  two  listeners  be 
lieved  him. 

Nothing  more  was  said  that  day  about  the  af 
fair  ;  no  more  questions  were  asked  ;  no  more  in 
formation  was  volunteered  ;  but  at  noon  the  fol 
lowing  day,  when  Trigger  had  gone  for  a  pail 
of  water,  Ross  reopened  the  absorbing  topic  of 
Lucky's  flight  with  a  question,  one  of  the  many 
which  he  was  unable  to  answer. 

"  Doc,"  Tod  answered,  "  the  lay  of  the  land  is 
about  this,  as  I  figure  it  out.  They  rushed  away 
that  night  to  trail  Lucky,  and  Lucky  was  foxy 
enough  to  cover  his  trail.  Strikes  me  that  Lucky 
knew  more  'n  you  think  he  did,  and  what  he 

170 


GOLD    HUNTER 

didn't  know  he  figured  out  pretty  close.  Now,  of 
course,  the  McKenzies  may  be  in  Miners',  or  on 
the  hunt  for  Lucky's  trail,  or  headin'  back  here,  or 
down  to  Cody.  No  one  ever  counted  rightly  on 
the  McKenzies.  And  see  here,  Doc,  don't  be  too 
hard  on  old  Trig.  Trig  acts  like  a  dog  that's  been 
killing  sheep.  You  can  see  by  his  actions  that  he 
isn't  burstin'  with  pride  in  himself.  And  you  can 
likewise  see  that  he  isn't  an  old  hand  at  claim- 
jumpin'.  And  Doc" — here  Tod  leaned  forward, 
his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
mouths  of  the  tunnels  visible  on  the  side  of  Elk, 
— "  when  a  fellow  is  huntin'  gold,  and  a  chance 
comes  along  to  stretch  out  his  hand  and  take  it, 
and  there's  some  one  eggin'  him  on — say,  Doc, 
don't  be  too  hard  on  Trig.  How  d'ye  know  I 
wouldn't  have  done  the  same  in  his  shoes  ?  " 

For  a  moment  Ross  looked  at  him  in  silence. 
Then,  "  Because  it  isn't  in  you  ! "  he  burst  out. 

"  I  don't  believe,"  Tod  continued  philosophic 
ally,  drawing  at  his  pipe,  "  that  any  of  us  can  tell 
exactly  what  we'd  do  if  we  was  set  down  in  the 
other  fellow's  shoes.  We  can  always  say  what  we'd 
do — and  what  he  ought  t'  do — but  doin'  it  is 
another  thing,  and  Trig  is  plumb  crazy  to  get  rich 
quick." 

"  His  claim  up  on  Elk  doesn't  promise  much  in  the 
way  of  riches,  does  it  ?  "  Ross  asked  after  a  moment. 

171 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Nope,  not  for  Trig — nor  any  of  us.  Some  day 
we'll  get  a  livin'  out  of  our  claims  i/ the  Burling 
ton  runs  the  Cody  road  up  to  Miners'  within  reach 
of  us  or  if — well,  Doc,  we've  gone  over  that  trail  so 
often  I  reckon  you've  got  it  by  heart." 

"  I  have,"  responded  Ross.  "  '  If  the  Burlington 
builds  its  road  or  if  one  of  the  mining  companies 
over  at  Miners'  puts  in  a  smelter ' — yes,  I've  fairly 
eaten  those  '  ifs '  ever  since  I  came  to  the  moun 
tains." 

Tod  smoked  in  silence  a  moment.  He  gazed 
slowly  around  the  valley.  "  These  mountains  are 
full  of  '  ifs,'  "  he  said  slowly,  finally,  "  but  they've 
got  me — that  you've  heard  before,  too  !  " 

He  knocked  the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe  and  put  it 
into  his  pocket.  "  No,"  he  began  again.  "  We  can't 
seem  to  be  sure  what  anybody  would  do  when  he  can 
stretch  out  an  arm  and  rake  in  some  gold."  He 
looked  sharply  at  Ross  and  added  abruptly,  "  Now, 
there's  Lucky  !  What  about  Lucky?" 

Ross  arose  without  replying  and  went  into  Trig 
ger's  cabin.  There  was  Lucky  !  And  after  the 
first  hours  of  excitement  and  of  rejoicing  that  the 
McKenzies  and  Trigger  had  been  foiled,  the  boy's 
thoughts  had  turned  to  the  other  side  of  the  case, 
where,  evidently,  Tod's  were  turning.  There  was 
Lucky  !  And  Lucky  had  succeeded  in  doing  ex 
actly  what  the  three  had  attempted  to  do.  When, 

172 


GOLD    HUNTER 

in  their  circling,  Ross's  thoughts  came  to  this  end, 
he  clenched  his  hands  involuntarily  as  though  he 
were  assailing  an  enemy.  It  could  not  be  that 
Lucky  with  his  kind  eyes  and  roughly  gentle  touch, 
his  direct  manner  and  strong,  likeable  personality 
had  stolen  the  letter  and  gone  away  to  Sheep's 
Horn  to  appropriate  the  find  he  had  been  trying  to 
protect  from  Sandy. 

"  It  can't  be !  "  Ross  insisted  aloud  to  the  uncom 
prehending  Hans,  as  he  raised  the  latter  to  a  sit 
ting  posture  in  the  bunk.  "  And  yet — facts  are 
facts  ! " 

Life  at  once  resumed  its  dead  routine  and  mon 
otony  at  Elk  Pass.  Ross  watched  the  gorge  hourly 
for  new  arrivals,  the  McKenzies  or  perhaps  Lucky. 
He  watched  all  the  afternoon  until  the  night  shad 
ows  hid  the  Pass  from  view.  Then  he  listened, 
but  no  one  came.  The  following  morning  he  vol 
unteered  to  do  the  housework  in  Trigger's  stead. 

"  Hans  isn't  making  many  demands  on  me  now. 
I'd  like  to  do  something,  even  dish-washing,"  he 
exclaimed. 

"  No  more'n  I'd  like  t'  have  ye,"  assented  Trig 
ger  cordially.  "  Sh'  I  come  down  at  noon  t'  sling 
grub?  "  he  added  ingratiatingly. 

"  I'll  have  dinner  ready  at  twelve  sharp,"  re 
turned  Ross,  "  and  then  there'll  be  a  good  piece  of 
the  morning  that  will  drag." 


ROSS    GRANT 

But  in  spite  of  the  "  piece  that  dragged/'  filled 
in  with  fruitless  thinking  and  watching  and  listen 
ing,  noon  and  dinner  came  at  last,  bringing  Tod 
and  Trigger  from  their  work.  For  the  first  time 
Hans  sat  propped  up  in  his  bunk  and  fed  himself. 
The  little  table  was  drawn  to  the  side  of  his  bunk 
and  supplied  with  such  portions  of  food  as  his  in 
creasing  appetite  called  for.  The  half  of  his  face 
visible  was  pale  and  shrunken,  but  his  motions 
were  more  sure  and  held  the  promise  of  returning 
strength.  Ross  left  him  straining  his  near-sighted 
eye  hungrily  down  at  some  hot  broth  made  from 
condensed  milk  and  elk  steak  that  had  been  air- 
cured  or  "  jerked  "  the  previous  November. 

"  If  I  foller  the  mount'ins  fer  all  time,"  declared 
Trigger  with  his  face  in  the  wash  basin,  "  I'm  goin' 
t'  rope  a  cook  and  fasten  'im  to  my  outfit.  This 
here  grub  gettin'  wears  on  my  nerves." 

"  It  don't  wear  on  your  nerves,  Trig,  half  as 
much  as  it  does  on  the  folks  that  have  to  eat  your 
cookin',"  responded  Tod  amiably  as  he  swung  one 
leg  over  a  bench  beside  the  table  and,  sitting  down 
astride,  leaned  up  lazily  against  the  side  logs  fac 
ing  the  door.  "  But  cooks  are  expensive,  espe 
cially  the  bunch  they  call  chefs  that  slings  you  a 
twenty-five-cent  mess  and  ropes  a  dollar  out  of  ye 
for  it.  But  I've  thought  of  something  exactly 
your  size  in  the  cook  line." 

174 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Trigger  ignored  Tod's  idea.  He  rubbed  his  head 
vigorously  on  the  party  towel  that  had  been  a 
party  to  too  many  rubbings  already.  Then  he 
stepped  rapidly  across  the  floor  and  sat  down  at 
the  table  facing  Tod.  Grasping  a  steel  knife  and 
fork  tightly,  he  fell  on  a  plateful  of  food  raven 
ously,  at  the  same  time  tossing  a  doubtful  compli 
ment  across  the  table  at  the  cook. 

"  Say,  Doc,  ye  wouldn't  make  a  bad  grub  slinger 
yerself  if  ye  kept  at  it  long  enough." 

Tod,  spearing  his  food  deliberately  and  con 
suming  it  slowly,  chuckled.  "  Doc,  that  com 
pliment  is  worth  about  two  bits.  Got  'em 
handy?" 

Ross,  plunging  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  drew 
out  a  silver  quarter,  exhibited  it  and  returned  it 
to  its  resting-place.  "  It'll  be  needed  worse  some 
where  else,  I'm  thinking,  than  paying  for  compli 
ments." 

"  Right  ye  are,  Doc ! "  exclaimed  Trigger.  "  Take 
care  of  the  bits  and  the  plunks'll  look  out  fer 
themselves ! " 

Tod  turned  the  tin  can  of  condensed  milk  upside 
down  over  his  cup  and  regarded  it  contemplatively. 
"  But,  Trig,  this  before-mentioned  idea  of  mine 
would  save  you  all  the  plunks  you'd  pay  a  cook, 
and  here  I'm  offerin'  it  to  you  free  gratis  for 
nothin',  and  you  pass  it  up  I " 

175 


ROSS    GRANT 

11  Hand  it  out  and  let's  have  a  look  at  it,"  said 
Trigger  cautiously. 

"  It's  not  much  to  look  at,"  began  Tod.  "  It's  a 
condensed  idea.  Last  time  I  was  in  Chicago  I  run 
across  it.  You  can  carry  your  grub  now  in  your 
vest  pocket.  It's  exactly  what  you  need,  Trig. 
Condensed  food.  They  have  it  all  done  down  in 
tablets.  You  wouldn't  even  have  to  take  along  a 
packhorse.  Just  load  up  a  case  of  tablets  behind 
your  saddle  and  start  out  happy.  Take  along  a 
parcel  of  cups,  and  when  noon  comes  fill  the  cups 
with  water  and  stick  your  hand  in  among  the 
tablets.  Out  comes  some  condensed  corn,  likely, 
'n'  potatoes,  'n'  meat,  'n'  soup,  etc.  All  you  do  is 
to  drop  the  tablets  into  the  water  and  let  'em  dis 
solve,  and  there  you  have  a  sustainin'  meal.  I 
ain't  sayin'  a  square  meal,  understand,  but  one 
that'll  keep  the  wolf  from " 

Here  Tod  leaned  forward  suddenly  and  gazed 
out  of  the  door.  "  H-m,"  he  interrupted  himself. 
"If  there  don't  come  that  knee-high-to-a-grass- 
hopper  Monkey ! " 

With  a  bound  Ross  was  on  his  feet  and  out  of 
the  door.  Through  the  Pass  rode  Nicholas  on  the 
spotted  pony,  the  packhorse  following  at  the  end 
of  a  rope.  As  soon  as  the  rider  saw  that  he  was 
the  center  of  observation,  he  leaped  to  the  flank 
of  the  pony  gayly,  heralding  his  arrival  by  an  In- 

176 


GOLD  HUNTER 

dian  war-whoop  that  made  the  echoes  ring.  Ross 
marveled  that  one  thin  throat  could  pass  such  a 
volume  of  sound. 

"  Hi,  Nick ! "  he  yelled  in  return,  waving  his 
arms  wildly.  "  Right  this  way.  What's  the 
latest?" 

The  Monkey  rode  up  with  many  flourishes,  and 
still  standing  on  the  flank  of  the  pony,  saluted. 
Then  he  dropped  nimbly  to  the  ground.  "  The 
latest  with  me  is  that  I'm  here  to  see  you,"  he 
returned.  "  And  what's  the  latest  with  you  ?  " 

"  That  we're  here  bein'  seen  !  "  shouted  Tod,  who 
still  sat  inside,  with  his  back  against  the  logs, 
slowly  spearing  food. 

"  Leave  the  hosses  and  come  to  grub  while  it's 
hot,"  urged  Trigger,  who  had  run  out  of  the  shack 
with  his  knife  and  fork  still  in  his  hands. 

Ross,  untying  the  pack  pony's  leading  rope, 
added  his  invitation.  "  I  cooked  the  dinner,  Nick, 
and  it's  worth  eating.  Come  on  in." 

"  If  you  let  Trigger  get  five  minutes  more  the 
start  of  you,"  called  Tod,  "  you'll  regret  it.  Trig's 
jaws  work  like  a  stamp  mill  on  metals." 

"  And  Tod's  jaws  work  like  a  stamp  mill  on  fool 
idees,"  retorted  Trigger  testily.  "  He  can  always 
tell  other  folks  what  t'  do,  but  he  never  tries  to 
break  any  new  trail  fer  himself." 

Nicholas  laughed  amusedly  at  this  sharp  shoot- 

177 


ROSS    GRANT 

ing.  He  left  his  ponies  standing  with  low-hanging 
heads  and  came  to  the  door.  There  he  stopped, 
with  a  quick  glance  about  the  interior  of  the  shack. 

"  Ain't  Dad  here?  "  he  asked. 

"  Nope,"  Tod  answered.  "  The  population  of 
the  Valley  of  the  Pass  has  thinned  out  consider 
able  since  you  left.  Not,"  he  added,  "that  the 
population  that  are  here  is  gettin'  any  thinner — I 
hurried  up  to  say  that,  Trig,  for  your  benefit,  be 
cause  I  saw  you  try  in'  to  swallow  a  flapjack  whole 
in  order  t'  say  it  first.  Now  bite  that  mouthful  in 
two  and  never  accuse  me  of  not  havin'  saved  your 
life  !  " 

Nicholas  grinned,  and,  accepting  the  box  that 
Ross  pushed  forward,  sat  down  beside  Tod,  who, 
without  moving,  reached  into  a  cupboard  beside 
him  and  produced  an  agate  ironware  pie  plate,  a 
knife,  fork  and  spoon  and  a  cup.  Thus  outfitted, 
the  newcomer  attacked  the  food  with  a  will. 

"  Has  Dad  been  here  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Been  and  come  and  gone  again,"  volunteered 
Tod.  "  That's  ancient  history.  Must  have  hap 
pened  four  days  ago.  He  come  from  Miners'. 
You  did  too,  didn't  you?  " 

Nicholas  nodded.  "  I  didn't  know  the  trail 
from  Miners'  was  so  long,"  he  complained.  "  I 
never  went  over  it  before."  Then  he  glanced 
at  Trigger.  "  Every  one  seems  to  have  been  to 

178 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Miners'  just  before  I  was  there,"  he  remarked, 
"looking  up  Lucky  Frace.  The  fellows  said  you 
and  Sandy  and  Waymart  were  there  hunting  for 
him  hot  footed." 

Trigger  flushed  and  bent  over  his  plate.  "  Yes, 
quite  a  bunch  of  us  was  there,"  he  mumbled. 

"  Where  is  he?"  asked  Nicholas  with  painful 
directness. 

There  was  a  pause.  Ross  pulled  the  skillet 
forward  on  the  stove  noisily.  Trigger  attempted 
to  swallow  another  flapjack  whole.  It  was  up  to 
the  Toddler  to  reply. 

"  When  Lucky  pulled  out  of  the  valley,"  said 
he  calmly,  "  he  told  the  post-office  authorities  to 
send  all  his  mail  to  Miners'  until  further  notice — 
and  now  he's  forgot  to  forward  that  '  further 
notice/  and  so  his  mail  is  pilin'  up  here  something 
fierce  with  every  express  that  pulls  in  !  " 

"  And  you  don't  know  where  he's  gone,  then  ?  " 
cried  Nicholas.  "  Is  Dad  with  him  ?  " 

"  I  take  it  he  ain't,  son,"  returned  Tod.  "  Your 
ancestor  pulled  out  of  the  valley  hours  before 
Lucky  saddled  up — and  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion.'' 

"  You  see,"  Nicholas  explained,  "  I  found  I  had 
gone  down  to  the  Lazy  Y  on  a  fool's  errand. 
Sandy  never  saw  Daisy.  There  wasn't  any  word 

sent  to  me  to  come " 

179 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Hem  I  "  interrupted  Tod,  looking  steadfastly 
into  his  plate.  "  Folks  that  go  according  to  Sandy 
McKenzie's  word  generally  do  find  themselves  on 
a  fool's  errand." 

Trigger's  face  turned  red,  but  Nicholas,  not 
understanding,  did  not  notice.  He  answered  Tod 
in  good  faith. 

"  That's  so.  Guess  they  do.  But  it  never  once 
entered  my  head  that  Sandy  was  ly — well,  hadn't 
seen  Daisy.  He  was  so  sort  of — er — careless  about 
giving  the  message,  and  didn't  act  as  though  it 

concerned  him  a  bit "     Here  the  boy  paused 

and  glanced  uncertainly  at  Ross.  He  remembered 
that  the  reason  that  had  led  Sandy  to  get  rid  of 
him  was  not  to  be  told  to  the  others.  Therefore, 
he  continued  an  account  of  his  wanderings. 

"When  I  found  that  Dad  hadn't  been  heard 
from  at  the  ranch  I  went  on  to  Meeteetse  and  then 
to  Basin  to  get  wind  of  him.  At  Basin  I  found 
I'd  missed  'im.  He  had  brought  in  the  thieves 
there  and  turned  'em  over  to  the  court  and  had 
left  for  Meeteetse.  So  I've  been  trailin'  him  ever 
since.  Got  up  to  Miners'  yesterday  and  found  the 
last  any  one  knew  of  him  he  had  come  over  here. 
Now,  where  did  he  go  from  here  ?  Back  to  the 
Lazy  Y?" 

Tod  answered.  "  Nope.  He  left  here  headin' 
up  the  South  Fork  after  old  man  Clark." 

1 80 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  Old  man  Clark  !  "  Nicholas  echoed.  "  What 
has  Dad  got  on  him  ?  " 

"  A  little  piece  of  paper,  son,  that  he  wants  to  put 
on  4m,"  Tod  instructed.  "  It's  a  subpoena,  but  in 
what  case  I  can't  tell  you.  Dad  didn't  tell  us 
all  his  business  !  " 

"  But  maybe  you  can  tell  me  the  place  where 
this  man  Clark  is  to  be  found  ?  " 

"  That  I  can.  He's  over  in  the  Wind  River 
country." 

"What  part  of  it?" 

"  Sheep's  Horn  region." 

"  Where's  that  ?  "  asked  Nicholas.  "  If  you  can 
direct  me  I'll  hike  out  in  the  morning.  Trailing 
is  great  fun.  Dad'll  find  he  can't  escape  me.  Do 
you  know  the  way  ?  " 

"  I  can  set  you  on  the  right  trail,"  Tod  assured 
him. 

Suddenly  Trigger  aroused  himself.  "Sheep's 
Horn.  That's  where  the  ha'nt  puts  up,  ain't 
it?" 

"Right  there,"  responded  Tod  affably.  "It's 
been  layin'  in  wait  for  you,  Trig,  for  years.  I  lis 
tened  to  it  all  one  night  and  heard  it  say  Trig,  Trig, 
Trig,  as  plain  as  day  !  And,  Trig,  that  was  years 
before  I  ever  saw  you  !  " 

"  Yer  ears  are  failin',"  Trig  retorted.  "  It  was 
sayin'  Tod,  Tod,  Tod,  instid !  " 

181 


ROSS    GRANT 

"What  haunt?"  asked  Nicholas,  and  Tod  ex 
plained. 

After  supper  Nicholas  found  an  opportunity  to 
ask  Ross  privately  :  "  Did  Sandy  do  any  more 
window  peeking  before  he  left  ?  " 

"  No,  he  didn't  get  a  chance,  although  he  got 
rid  of  you.  I  held  down  the  job  of  watching  after 
you  left." 

"  Then  he  hasn't  got  what  he  was  after — from 
Hans  ?  " 

Ross  shook  his  head.  "  No,  for  once  Sandy  got 
fooled — and  so  he  got  out.  Did  the  men  down  in 
Miners'  say  where  he  and  Waymart  have  gone  ?  " 

"  Nope,  didn't  hear  any  one  say."  Then  raising 
his  voice  until  it  reached  the  men  outside  the 
cabin,  he  challenged  Ross  to  a  race.  "  Come  on," 
he  shouted,  turning  handsprings  out  of  the  shack. 
"  Let's  run  across  to  the  South  Fork.  I'll  give  you 
five  yards  start  and  then  beat  you  to  Sandy's  tent." 

Ross  paused  to  look  into  Trigger's  shack.  Hans 
lay  quietly  with  the  letter  in  his  hands,  the  false 
letter  of  Ross's  creation.  But  the  holder  did  not 
know  the  difference,  no  matter  how  near  he 
brought  the  paper  to  his  eye.  Only  a  blur  of 
words  and  a  familiar  crooked  line  were  revealed  to 
him  by  his  defective  eyesight. 

Of  course,  Nicholas  won  the  race  even  with  five 
yards  handicap.  The  boy  seemed  possessed  by  the 

182 


GOLD    HUNTER 

spirit  of  activity.  He  was  not  content  to  reach 
the  tent  first,  but  spun  rapidly  around  and  around 
in  the  entrance  until  the  larger  boy  was  dizzy 
merely  watching,  and  the  two  men  sat  outside  the 
twin  shacks  and  applauded. 

"  Now,"  exclaimed  Nick,  somewhat  breathless  as 
he  stopped  in  front  of  Ross,  "  I'm  going  to  give 
you  lessons  in  coming  down  a  tree.  How  do  you 
come  down  ?  " 

"  Why,"  said  Ross  puzzled,  "  the  way  every  one 
comes — when  I  find  myself  up  a  tree.  That  isn't 
often." 

"  Feet  first  or  head  first  ?  "  demanded  Nicholas. 

"  Why,  feet  first,  of  course." 

"  Watch  me  !  " 

The  younger  boy  selected  a  tall,  straight  pine 
near  the  tent,  and  in  a  moment  was  at  the  very 
top,  while  Tod  and  Trigger  drew  near. 

"  Now,"  shouted  the  showman,  "  here's  your 
new  and  original  way  of  getting  down  a  tree. 
Watch  me." 

He  came  down  so  rapidly  that  Ross  could 
scarcely  see  how  he  came — except  that  he  was  head 
downward  half  the  time.  Clamping  a  limb  with 
his  legs  twisted  together  he  swung  down  from  the 
topmost  limb  strong  enough  to  bear  him,  seized  a 
limb  below,  untwined  his  legs,  and  dropped,  his 
feet  feeling  for  a  foothold  below.  This  found,  he 

183 


ROSS    GRANT 

dropped  to  that  foothold  and  repeated  the  process 
until  he  swung  lightly  to  the  ground  and  was 
bowing  to  his  delighted  audience. 

"  Nick/'  cried  Tod,  "  I  used  to  hear  that  we  was 
all  descended  from  the  apes,  and  I  do  declare  I'm 
nearer  to  believin'  it  than  I  was  five  minutes  ago." 

"  Up,  Doc  !  "  cried  Nicholas  with  sparkling  eyes. 
"  Go  try  that  yourself!  I'll  run  up  with  you  and 
show  you.  You're  always  saying  you'd  like  to  do 
those  stunts " 

"  Go  on  up,  Doc,  and  try  it,"  urged  Trigger  ex 
citedly.  "  I'd  like  to  see  if  you  could." 

Tod  shrugged  his  fat  shoulders.  "  Go  easy, 
Doc,"  he  advised.  "  There's  enough  of  us  here  to 
pick  up  your  remains,  but  no  one's  skilful  enough 
to  put  'em  together  except  yourself,  and  you  won't 
likely  be  in  the  mood  ! " 

"  Oh,  come  along,  Doc,"  cried  Nick  impatiently. 
"  Be  a  sport  for  once  !  Come  on  up,"  and  like  a 
squirrel,  the  speaker  climbed  and  continued  his 
urging  from  the  tree  top. 

Tod  lay  back,  pillowing  his  head  in  his  clasped 
hands.  "  You're  a  queer  teacher,"  he  yelled  at  the 
tree  top,  "  to  expect  your  scholar  t'  skip  his  a,  b,  c's 
and  read  the  whole  book  at  once.  Just  take  Doc 
up  on  the  first  limb  and  teach  'im  to  turn  turtle 
there  without  breaking  his  neck." 

Nicholas  reluctantly  descended  to  the  lowest 

184 


GOLD    HUNTER 

limb,  where  Ross  joined  him,  little  dreaming  that 
his  lesson  would  ever  be  of  practical  value  to  him. 
He  shinned  awkwardly  up  the  trunk  and  bestrode 
the  limb  with  little  taste  for  the  sport.  Amid  the 
good-natured  gibes  of  the  others  he  followed  the 
instructions  of  Nicholas,  who  made  none  too  pa 
tient  a  teacher. 

"  Here — do  this  way,  Doc.  Bend  your  right 
leg — so.  Now  twist  your  foot  around  your  left — 
no,  further  up,  near  the  knee,  so  that  when  you 
swing  down  your  right  knee  will  hook  over  the 
limb  and  your  left  leg  will  hold  that  knee  fast — 

like  that.  Now,  swing  down Oh,  be  a  sport ! 

Hook  and  hang !  I'll  clutch  your  legs  this  time 
so  they  can't  loosen.  Swing  !  " 

Ross  "  hooked  "  firmly,  but  to  "  hang  "  was  a 
different  matter.  He  swung  down  head  first,  but 
his  right  hand  refused  to  loosen  its  hold  on  the 
limb  until  Nicholas  jerked  it  loose.  Then,  find 
ing  his  legs  held,  he  swung  a  moment  until  the 
blood  drummed  in  his  ears  and  his  eyeballs 
seemed  full  to  bursting.  Then  he  lifted  his  head 
and  shoulders,  grasped  the  limb  and  righted  him 
self  heavily  and  slowly.  Sitting  dizzily  astride 
the  limb,  his  back  to  the  trunk,  he  watched  the 
agile  Monkey  perform.  The  boy  would  twine  his 
legs  together  and  cast  himself  down  with  a  vio 
lence  which  whirled  him  around  and  up  and  over 

185 


ROSS    GRANT 

again,  his  long  flaxen  hair  and  moccasined  feet 
changing  places  with  startling  rapidity. 

When  Ross  had  recuperated,  his  teacher  again 
took  him  in  hand,  insisting  on  his  persevering 
until  he  was  able  to  swing  down  fearlessly,  both 
hands  free. 

"  Good,  Doc  !  "  cried  Trigger.  "  I  didn't  think 
you  could  do  it." 

"  You'd  better  believe  I'd  never  do  it  just  to 
pass  the  time  away,"  declared  Ross  frankly, 
dropping  to  the  ground.  "  I'd  rather  have  my 
head  about  six  feet  higher  than  my  feet,  if  you 
please  !  It's  more  comfortable." 

"  Say  ! "  exclaimed  Nicholas,  trying  in  vain  to 
squeeze  the  disgust  out  of  his  tone.  "  I  thought 
there  wa'n't  a  boy  alive  who  couldn't  do  that 
much !  I'm  glad  I  wa'n't  brought  up  in  the 
East !  " 

"  See  here ! "  ordered  the  long-suffering  Ross, 
"don't  put  it  over  the  whole  East  just  because  I 
can't  do  such  things.  While  other  fellows  were 
climbing  trees  I  was  helping  uncle  patch  up  the 
miners  from  the  coal  mines,  that  got  blown  up  or 
crushed  under  a  load  of  coal  or  suffocated  with  gas 
or  kicked  by  the  mules " 

Nicholas,  looking  from  the  embryo  doctor  to 
the  tree,  interrupted  :  "  Doc,  I'll  take  back  what  I 
said  about  the  East.  Only — I  don't  believe  you'll 

1 86 


GOLD    HUNTER 

ever  be  sorry  you  know  how  to  swing  off  from  a 
branch  I  " 

Tod  arose  laboriously.  "  So  long  as  Doc  has 
stayed  whole  through  his  lesson  there  ain't  enough 
excitement  here  now  to  keep  me  awake.  I'm  goin' 
to  turn  in  !  " 

The  departure  of  Nicholas  the  following  morn 
ing  left  Ross  with  another  heavy  day  on  his 
hands, — three,  in  fact,  as  his  patient  absorbed  less 
and  less  of  his  time,  and  yet  could  not  be  left 
alone  yet.  He  was  up  and  dressed  the  second 
day,  but  could  walk  only  a  few  steps  at  a  time. 
The  grippe  had  left  him  weak.  The  inflamma 
tion  on  his  cheek  was  gradually  being  reduced, 
and  the  gash  was  at  last  healing  nicely.  With 
the  aid  of  the  German  dictionary  Ross  spent 
hours  making  himself  understood  by  his  patient. 
In  this  he  was  more  successful  than  in  under 
standing. 

But  during  these  three  days  Ross  was  carrying 
on  an  undercurrent  of  thought  that  was  bearing 
him  toward  a  resolution.  The  evening  of  the 
third  day  he  determined  to  lay  his  resolution 
before  Tod.  In  order  to  see  him  alone,  he  waited 
until  Trigger  had  come  down  early  from  his  tunnel 
and  was  getting  supper.  Then  Ross  left  Hans 
sitting  on  his  blankets  in  the  doorway,  his 
precious  envelope  in  his  inner  breast  pocket, 

187 


ROSS    GRANT 

his  eye  closed  to  shut  out  the  blinding  light 
from  the  setting  sun. 

On  the  trail  across  the  face  of  Elk,  between 
Tod's  tunnel  and  Lucky's,  Ross  met  the  former 
who  stopped  short  with  a  grin.  "  Come  to  clear 
out  your  mind,  haven't  you,  Doc  ?  Well,  sittings 
as  cheap  as  standin'." 

He  stepped  across  the  fallen  tree,  and  seated 
himself  on  the  trunk  facing  the  tiny  valley.  Op 
posite  rose  a  massive  pile,  rock-bound,  tree-orna 
mented,  snow-crowned,  its  feet  washed  by  the 
South  Fork.  Beside  the  creek  the  horses  grazed 
and  drank.  About  the  water  hole  the  thick 
growth  of  quaking  asp  bushes  kept  the  animals 
away.  The  shacks  looked  like  doll  houses,  and 
the  smoke  pouring  from  Tod's  cabin  resembled 
the  smoke  from  a  clay  pipe. 

"  Tod,"  Ross  began,  seating  himself  beside  the 
other,  "  in  ten  days  Hans  will  be  ready  for  the 
saddle,  and  I  for  Pennsylvania.  But  I  shall  have 
to  take  him  to  Cody  with  me  to  an  oculist,  and 
the  first  thing  he'll  try  his  new  glasses  on  will  be 
that  letter." 

Tod  opened  his  knife,  and  began  to  cut  notches 
in  the  tree  trunk.  "  Nice  little  surprise  he'll  meet 
up  with  !  "  was  all  he  said. 

"  And  a  nice  figure  I'll  cut  in  the  matter,"  Ross 
continued  resentfully.  "  It  will  look  pretty  much 

1 88 


GOLD   HUNTER 

as  though  I  were  a  party  to  the  theft."  The  word 
came  out  with  an  effort.  Tod  gouged  the  knife 
deeper  in  the  wood,  and  said  nothing. 

"  Tod,"  exclaimed  Ross  finally,  "  the  long  and 
the  short  of  it  is,  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  go 
after  Lucky  I " 


189 


CHAPTER  IX 

A    PLUNGE    INTO   THE    WILDERNESS 

"  I  MUST  have  that  letter  before  we  go  to  Cody," 
Ross  continued,  "  and  besides — I've  got  to  find 
Lucky.  I  can't  leave  Wyoming  until  I  know 

about "  here  an  unexpected  catch  in  the  boy's 

voice  arrested  speech.  He  cleared  his  throat  im 
patiently,  and  continued  brusquely,  "The  long 
and  the  short  of  it  is,  I've  got  to  know  whether 
he — you  understand "  Ross  stopped  abruptly. 

Tod  nodded,  whittling  with  care.  *'  You  may 
have  the  loan  of  my  horse/'  he  mentioned  briefly. 

Ross  swallowed.  "  Thank  you.  But — can  I 
get  to  Sheep's  Horn  alone?  If  only  I'd  gone 
with  Nick,  but  at  the  time  he  went  I  never 
thought  of  it.  He  probably  went  as  straight  as 
a  bird  flies,  but  could  I  ?  " 

"  Nothing  easier,"  assented  Tod  carelessly.  "  I 
can  map  you  the  trail  and  start  you  on  your  way. 
You  can  leave  here  before  noon,  pack  along  three 
or  four  days'  grub  in  case  you  shouldn't  strike 
Lucky,  and  reach  Sheep's  Horn  at  sundown  the 
next  day." 

190 


GOLD   HUNTER 

"  That  will  mean  one  night  in  the  open  ! "  ex 
claimed  Ross. 

Tod  looked  up  in  surprise.  "  Surely.  Take 
along  a  blanket,  and  keep  up  a  good  fire.  The 
bears  from  Yellowstone  Park  are  apt  to  rampage 
around  in  that  part  a  good  deal  this  time  of 
year." 

"  Bears  !  "  ejaculated  Ross,  drawing  back. 

"  Bears  ?  Bless  you,  yes !  "  Tod  continued 
easily.  "  Government  won't  let  any  be  shot, 
you  know,  and  they  trot  around,  and  eat  out 
of  the  tourists'  hands,  or  would  if  the  tourist 
didn't  shin  up  a  tree  too  quick."  Here  Tod 
grinned  at  the  expression  on  Ross's  face. 

"  Aren't  they  dangerous  ?  "  the  boy  asked. 

"  About  as  dangerous  as  a  cow  !  " 

"  But  cows  have  been  known  to  fight " 

"  Yes,  and  tame  bears  to  hug,"  laughed  Tod. 
"  Don't  work  yourself  into  a  fever  about  those 
bears.  In  the  first  place,  you're  not  likely  to  see 
one.  In  the  second  place  a  good  fire'll  scare  'em 
off.  In  the  third  place,  you  can  pack  along  Trig's 
gun.  Mine's  out  of  commission." 

"  I'm  not  worth  a  cent  with  a  gun,"  Ross  began. 

"  I  should  hope  not,"  interposed  Tod,  "  for  in 
that  case,  you  might  kill  a  friendly,  innocent 
animal,  when  all  you  need  to  do  is  to  raise  a 
racket  to  make  it  show  its  heels.  And  Trig's  gun 

191 


ROSS    GRANT 

can  make  about  as  much  racket  as  its  owner.  I 
never  see  such  a  gun.  A  charge  of  dynamite 
ain't  in  it  with  that  gun  !  Let  that  off  in  a  bear's 
face  and  he  ain't  going  to  trot  along  after  you  any 
longer,  no  matter  how  much  he's  longin'  for  sweet 
chocolate.  The  women  tourists  over  in  the  Park 
feed  'em  on  milk  chocolate  until  the  guides  say 
they  can't  live  without  it — gets  to  be  a  habit !  " 

Ross  smiled  uneasily  at  the  pictures  Tod  was 
painting  with  a  humorous  exaggeration.  He  did 
not  relish  the  idea  of  a  night  alone  under  the 
stars,  but  he  was  not  easily  turned  from  his  pur 
pose. 

"  I  can  outfit  you,"  said  Tod  presently,  "  so  that 
you  can  hike  out  to-morrow." 

"  What  about  Trigger  ? "  asked  Ross  hesita 
tingly. 

Tod  shut  his  knife  with  a  click.  "  You  leave 
Trig  to  me.  As  long  as  he  didn't  go  around 
shoutin1  news  of  his  little  hike,  you  needn't 
either;  but  honest,  Doc,  I  don't  believe  Trig 
would  do  again  what  he  did  that  night.  You 
needn't  be  afraid  of  his  followin'  you.  Trig's 
education  about  Sandy  is  a'most  finished.  He'll 
graduate  by  and  by  with  honors." 

Until  the  sun  went  down  the  two  sat,  Ross  with 
paper  and  pencil  making  notes,  and  listening 
eagerly,  while  Tod,  grinning  broadly  at  the  paper, 

192 


GOLD    HUNTER 

described  the  way  to  Sheep's  Horn.     Note-taking 
on  trails  was  a  new  business  to  him. 

"  I  never  heard  of  making  literature  out  of  a 
trail  1 "  he  chuckled. 

"  Of  course  not.  Nick,  for  instance,  didn't  have 
to.  He  is  used  to  trails  and  finding  them,  and  I 
am  not."  Ross  spoke  with  dogged  honesty.  "  But 
I  know  my  head  wouldn't  hold  all  this,  and  I'd 
get  so  turned  around  that  I'd  be  doubling  on  my 
tracks.  A  little  literature  on  the  subject  won't 
hurt  me !  " 

As  the  two  made  their  way  down  the  steep  trail 
beside  the  Pass,  Tod  continued  the  subject  of  the 
boy's  journey.  "  In  the  morning  I'll  get  Trig  off 
to  his  work,  and  then  we'll  pack  up  my  horse  and 
start  you  off.  I'll  lend  you  Trig's  gun  and  make 
it  right  with  him  afterward.  And  I'm  hoping 

you   find    Lucky — safe   and "     Tod   did   not 

finish  his  sentence. 

The  following  morning  Ross  was  astir  early, 
preparing  rather  dismally  for  the  journey.  He 
made  Hans  understand  that  he  was  going  to  be 
absent  for  a  few  days,  at  the  end  of  which  time 
they  would  both  go  to  Cody  and  an  oculist.  The 
injured  eye  was  still  inflamed,  requiring  a  band 
age  ;  but  the  cheek  no  longer  needed  dressing. 

"  Here  you,  Trig,"  said  the  Toddler  after  break 
fast,  "  I'll  hoe  off  the  dishes.  You  vamose." 

193 


ROSS    GRANT 

Trigger  turned  from  the  stove  with  a  delighted 
grin.  "  I  don't  need  no  second  telling  but  what's 
struck  you  ?  Been  attendin'  a  missionary  meetin'  ? " 

"  Yep,  home  missions  1 "  retorted  Tod.  "  I've 
eaten  three  times  with  the  same  bean  stuck  on  the 
side  of  my  plate ;  and  I  aim  to  get  shet  of  that 
bean." 

"  Bean  !  "  cried  Trigger  scornfully.  "  What's  the 
matter  with  a  nice  clean  bean?  And  it  gittin' 
cleaner  every  time  the  plate  is  washed  !  " 

As  soon  as  Trigger  started  for  the  Elk  Moun 
tain,  Tod  and  Ross  fell  to  work  outfitting  the 
latter  for  his  journey.  It  was  a  glorious  morning. 
As  Ross  started  toward  the  creek  in  search  of 
Tod's  horse,  he  stopped  to  sniff  the  sharp  air. 

"  The  last  of  June  here,"  he  exclaimed,  "  smells 
like  an  April  thaw  in  northern  Pennsylvania." 

"  That's  right,  Doc,"  stated  Tod,  "  but  you  can't 
find  any  day  here  in  the  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  that  smells  like  a  Fourth  of  July  back  East, 
with  every  man  swelterin'  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  and 
wishin'  that  even  shirts  had  never  been  invented." 

At  nine  o'clock  everything  was  in  readiness. 
Beside  the  cabin  stood  Tod's  horse,  saddled  and 
bridled.  Leaning  against  the  shack  was  Trigger's 
rifle  and  a  sharp  hatchet,  indispensable  aid  to  a 
camp-fire. 

"  Here,  Doc,"  Tod  directed,  "  fill  your  pockets 

194 


GOLD    HUNTER 

with  first  aids.  Here's  string  in  plenty.  And 
matches — never  run  low  on  matches.  Let's  see 
your  jack-knife.  Ha  I  A  mere  toy.  Here's  mine. 
Some  weight  and  strength  to  this  blade.  When 
you've  been  rampagin'  around  the  mountains  for 
five  years  you'll  learn  to  load  up  with  other  things 
beside  clean  towels  and  neckties  !  " 

Ross  reddened.  "  I  have  got  a  towel,"  he  re 
turned  defensively,  "  but  not  a  single  tie  !  " 

Tod  chuckled  and  began  to  arrange  the  pack 
outfit  on  the  horse's  back,  the  boy  watching  and 
assisting,  knowing  that  the  next  time  the  packing 
was  done  he  must  do  it  alone.  From  the  pommel 
Tod  suspended  a  skillet  and  coffee-pot,  while  be 
hind  the  saddle  he  strapped  a  bag  containing  a 
supply  of  "  sinkers/'  or  man-made  biscuits,  boxes 
of  crackers,  coffee,  bacon,  and  tin  cans  bearing  a 
variety  of  labels. 

"Always  pack  along  just  double  the  grub  you 
think  you'll  want,"  he  advised,  stooping  to  wres 
tle  with  a  buckle.  "  It's  a  mighty  good  rule  to 
follow." 

As  his  head  came  above  the  horse's  back  again, 
he  started  back  with  an  exclamation,  and  half 
dodged,  passing  his  hand  across  his  eyes.  "  How'd 
you  do  that  stunt,  Doc?  "  he  asked. 

Ross  looked  across  the  saddle  at  him  in  astonish 
ment.  "Do  what?  What  do  you  mean?"  The 


ROSS    GRANT 

boy's  hands  were  busy  with  the  agate-ware  coffee 
pot. 

Tod  glanced  about  him  a  moment,  at  Hans  sit 
ting  drearily  in  the  doorway,  cut  off  from  com 
panionship  by  a  difference  in  language,  at  his  own 
shack,  and  then  back  at  Ross.  "  I  guess,"  he  ex 
plained  with  another  grin,  "  that  speakin'  of  an 
eastern  Fourth  just  naturally  made  me  see  light 
ning.  The  thunder  may  come  later  when  the 
snow  decides  it  will  slide  down  the  further  side 
of  old  Elk.  There  you  are  !  Now,  vamose,  and — 
Doc — luck  to  you." 

Ross  felt  the  significance  of  the  last  words.  He 
waved  a  farewell  at  Hans,  and  rode  out  of  the 
valley,  feeling  that  all  his  own  doubts  and  fears 
concerning  Lucky  were  Tod's. 

The  horseman's  way  that  day  was  clear.  No 
notes  were  wasted  on  the  trail  to  the  head  waters 
of  South  Fork.  "  Follow  your  nose,"  Tod  had 
directed,  "  and  camp  when  there's  danger  of  getting 
your  nose  twisted  by  lettin'  it  lead  any  longer." 

The  trail  was  rough,  but  not  dangerous.  Again 
and  again  the  horse  patiently  forded  the  stream 
in  order  to  get  a  foothold  in  the  narrow  canon, 
which  burrowed  its  snake-like  way  through  the 
mountains  with  only  a  few  hours'  daily  exposure 
to  the  sun. 

At  one  o'clock  Ross  dined  on  "  sinkers,"  while 

196 


GOLD   HUNTER 

the  horse  cropped  a  scanty  supply  of  grass  beside 
the  creek.  He  did  not  want  to  stop  long  enough 
to  build  a  fire  and  get  a  hot  dinner.  He  was  ob 
sessed  with  the  idea  of  reaching  Lucky. 

Until  six  o'clock  he  "  followed  his  nose  "  up,  up, 
up,  until  he  reached  Indian  Ledge,  a  huge  granite 
pile  which  barred  his  progress  and  threatened  to 
"  twist  his  nose."  Here  he  rested  his  horse  and 
consulted  his  map  and  notes.  At  the  foot  of  the 
Ledge,  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain,  he  was 
to  make  his  camp  for  the  night.  He  had  stopped 
in  a  thicket  of  sage-brush,  stunted  pine,  hemlock 
and  quaking  asp.  The  boughs  met  so  thickly 
overhead  that  the  world  of  peaks  was  cut  off  from 
his  view.  The  trail  wound  back  and  forth,  but 
always  up.  His  horse  picked  its  way  carefully, 
sometimes  pushing  aside  the  meeting  branches, 
sometimes  stumbling  over  stones,  sometimes  tread 
ing  on  soft  pine  needles  and  often  emerging  at 
dizzy  heights  on  a  narrow  snow-filled  path  with 
huge  boulders  on  one  side  and  sheer  descents  on 
the  other. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  Ross  again  drew  the 
pony  in  and  let  it  rest.  He  had  now  reached  the 
bleak,  snow-shrouded,  wind-swept  summit  of  the 
Ledge.  From  his  lofty  position  he  counted 
twenty  peaks,  the  most  of  them  snow-capped,  all 
of  them  cold  and  barren  and  rocky.  He  caught 

197 


ROSS    GRANT 

his  breath  and,  for  a  moment,  swayed  faint  and 
dizzy  in  his  saddle.  The  rare  air,  the  intense 
cold,  the  utter  lifeless  loneliness  of  the  mountains 
robbed  him  of  breath  and  oppressed  him  with  a 
numbness  both  mental  and  physical.  Even  the 
sun,  still  visible  above  the  western  ranges,  was  for 
bidding  in  its  cold  brilliancy. 

"  I  wonder  which  is  Elk  Mountain?"  he  said 
aloud  recovering  with  an  effort  from  his  faintness. 
"It's  back  there  somewhere — and  Tod  and  Trig 
ger  and  Hans " 

His  voice  stopped,  and  he  wondered  how,  for 
mere  gold,  men  would  allow  themselves  to  be 
swallowed  up  in  this  gulf  of  silence  and  lifeless- 
ness. 

"  Not  all  the  gold  of  Ophir  could  tempt  me," 
the  boy  cried  vehemently  aloud,  hitting  his  pony 
on  the  neck  with  the  reins. 

Slowly  and  wearily  the  animal  crunched  over 
the  ice  and  snow,  picking  its  way  to  the  left,  and 
then  began  a  slow  and  perilous  descent.  The  trail 
was  man-made,  Ross  soon  saw.  Originally  there 
had  not  been  a  foothold  for  a  horse  on  the  sharp 
slope.  But  the  tireless  prospector  had  come  and 
gone  and  left  in  his  wake  the  thread  of  a  trail. 

"Somewhere  about  here  a  claim  is  staked," 
Ross  told  himself. 

In  a  few  moments  he  reached  the  dark  mouth  of 

198 


GOLD    HUNTER 

a  tunnel,  and  stopped  a  moment  where  the  dump 
broadened  and  leveled  the  trail.  Overhead,  the 
mountain  loomed  almost  perpendicularly.  Below, 
it  fell  away,  straight  down  hundreds  of  feet  into  a 
canon.  Then  he  looked  at  the  tunnel.  It  was  a 
shallow  affair,  yet  on  the  timbered  entrance  was 
nailed  a  yellowed  and  shriveled  paper  announc 
ing  the  fact  that  one  Jonathan  Castle  had  pat 
ented  that  claim  under  the  laws  of  Wyoming  three 
years  before. 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  could  swear  to  five  hundred 
dollars'  worth  of  development  work  done  in  that 
tunnel,"  thought  Ross,  and  then  exclaimed  aloud, 
"  Oh,  yes,  the  trail !  " 

According  to  Wyoming  law,  in  order  to  perfect 
ownership  to  a  claim  of  public  land,  the  claim- 
staker  is  obliged  to  have  five  hundred  dollars' 
worth  of  development  work  done  by  the  end  of 
the  fifth  year.  Thus  Jonathan  Castle  instead  of 
putting  the  required  five  hundred  dollars'  worth 
of  work  into  his  tunnel,  had  blasted  and  dug  and 
built  out  a  way  across  the  face  of  the  mountain, 
by  which  his  claim  could  be  reached,  a  work 
which  the  law  allows  in  the  place  of  development 
or  digging  on  the  claim  itself. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond  the  trail  twisted 
around  the  mountain  and  entered  a  dense  hemlock 
forest  at  the  upper  edge  of  the  timber  belt.  Dodg- 

199 


ROSS    GRANT 

ing  and  crouching  to  avoid  the  low  branches,  Ross 
left  the  finding  of  the  path  to  his  horse,  glancing 
here  and  there  half  fearfully  through  the  heavy 
gloom.  Down,  down,  the  trail  led  until  finally  it 
emerged  into  a  tiny  valley  with  Indian  Ledge 
towering  three  thousand  feet  above.  Here  spring 
time  reigned  again,  and  the  sunlight,  lingering  a 
few  moments  longer,  greeted  the  horseman  with  a 
warmth  unfelt  on  the  peaks. 

Ross  drew  a  long,  unlabored  breath  again,  and 
slipping,  stiff  and  saddle  worn,  from  his  pony, 
proceeded  to  survey  his  surroundings  with  a  view 
to  selecting  a  suitable  camp.  The  tiny  valley  was 
sparsely  wooded.  With  its  coarse,  nutritious  grass, 
its  huge  rocks  and  its  clear  cold  spring,  it  proved 
more  friendly  than  the  heights,  and  his  spirits 
rose.  He  even  whistled  as  he  selected  a  large  flat 
rock  near  a  spring  as  a  flank  defense  for  his  camp. 
A  tall  pine  tree  stood  beside  the  rock,  its  tangled 
boughs  growing  low  on  its  stout  trunk. 

He  unloaded  and  unsaddled  his  pony,  hobbled  it 
and  turned  it  loose  to  graze.  It  rejected  the  grass 
on  that  side  of  the  basin  and  made  its  way  slowly 
across  the  valley,  where  it  found  feed  to  its  liking 
opposite  Indian  Ledge.  Ross  followed  until  satis 
fied  that  it  would  not  wander  far.  Then  he  re 
turned  and  devoted  himself  to  camp  making.  It 
was  the  first  night  he  had  ever  spent  in  the 

200 


GOLD    HUNTER 

open  under  the  velvet,  star-studded,  moon-pierced 
sky  that  seemed  to  lay  so  near  the  wind-swept 
peaks. 

First,  he  built  a  fire  of  dry  sage-brush  beside  the 
rock,  heaping  the  coals  between  two  stones  which 
served  as  a  support  for  his  coffee-pot  and  skillet  of 
bacon.  When  the  bacon  was  fried,  he  pried  open 
a  can  of  soup  with  Tod's  jack-knife,  and  heated  the 
contents  in  the  skillet.  Afterward  he  feasted,  sit 
ting  at  ease  on  his  blankets,  his  back  against  that 
part  of  the  rock  warmed  by  the  fire.  As  he  ate, 
the  coals  between  the  stones  gradually  dulled.  The 
sun  crept  down  behind  the  western  peaks  and 
threw  its  farewell  signals  on  the  eastern  mountain 
tops  across  the  sky  in  long  streamers  of  gorgeous 
colors.  Gloomy  shadows  fell  on  the  rim  of  the 
valley  basin  beneath  the  trees  and  overhanging 
ledges,  but  the  center  of  the  valley  was  yet  bathed 
in  the  soft,  long-lived  twilight.  The  wind,  ever 
active  along  the  heights,  began  to  creep  down  the 
steep  slopes.  The  first  chilly  blast  sought  Ross 
out  and  aroused  him  to  the  necessity  of  preparing 
for  the  night. 

"  The  first  thing,"  he  exclaimed  aloud,  "  is  a  sup 
ply  of  fire-wood." 

Seizing  the  hatchet,  he  repaired  to  a  fallen  pine 
tree  a  few  yards  away  and  began  hacking 
strongly  at  the  branches.  He  worked  with  his 

201 


ROSS    GRANT 

back  to  the  rock,  piling  the  dry  branches  beside 
him. 

"  Whew  !  "  he  muttered.  "  If  this  won't  make  a 
fire  and  a  half !  It  seems  sort  of  extravagant  to 
use  up  so  much  pine  kindling " 

A  strange,  low  sound  arrested  his  attention.  He 
paused.  It  was  repeated.  He  looked  toward  the 
left,  straightening  slowly.  Above  was  the  tower 
ing  Ledge.  The  flat  rock  stood  near  the  forest  that 
stopped  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  Between  the 
woods  and  the  rock  was  an  undergrowth  of  quak 
ing  asp  bushes,  then  an  open  space  of  several  rods. 
This  space  was  empty.  The  origin  of  the  vague 
sound  was  not  there. 

"Woof!  G-r-r-r-r!"  came  from  behind  him. 
There  was  no  mistake  this  time  as  to  either  origin 
or  direction. 

The  hatchet  slipped  suddenly  from  a  nerveless 
hand  as  the  boy  turned  petrified  and  faced  an 
enormous  bear  in  shaggy  brown  coat.  The  ani 
mal  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  rock,  the  side 
where  lay  the  supplies.  He  had  reared  himself  on 
his  strong  hind  legs,  and,  his  forepaws  on  the  rock, 
stood  blinking  at  Ross.  Ross  did  not  blink  back 
again.  His  eyes  felt  as  large  as  saucers  and  were 
strained  wide  open.  Both  Bruin  and  the  boy  were 
surprised,  but  astonishment  affected  them  differ 
ently.  The  bear  had  seen  many  more  people  than 

202 


THERE    WAS    NO    MISTAKE    THIS    TIME 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Ross  had  seen  bears.  To  Bruin  a  human  being 
meant  merely  a  litter  of  good  food  such  as  he 
smelled  now  but  could  not  find,  therefore  he  stared 
crossly  at  Ross  for  a  moment,  and  then  dropped 
down  behind  the  rock  out  of  sight — but  not  out  of 
hearing. 

Ross  stood  petrified  beside  the  fallen  tree.  The 
memory  of  Tod's  laughing  comments  on  bears 
failed  to  stiffen  his  spine  in  the  actual  presence  of 
this  enormous  marauder.  It  might  be  as  harmless 
as  a  tame  cow,  but  it  certainly  did  not  look  so — 
nor  act  so !  He  heard  his  coffee-pot  rattle,  heard 
the  tin  cans  thrown  about,  heard  the  discontented 
sniffs  of  the  hungry  bear.  He  knew  that  the  fire, 
which  would  have  kept  Bruin  at  a  respectful  dis 
tance,  had  died  away  to  the  last  coal.  Trigger's 
rifle,  which  would  also  have  frightened  the  animal, 
lay  under  its  feet. 

Ross  strained  his  eyes  across  the  rock  incapable 
of  thought  or  action,  but  Bruin,  it  seems,  was  capa 
ble  of  an  unlimited  amount  of  action.  He  licked 
the  coffee-pot  and  then  knocked  it  aside.  He  ate 
up  the  supply  of  cold  biscuits  and  finished  off  half 
a  box  of  crackers  Ross  had  left  open.  Then  he 
nosed  about  among  the  closed  cans  and  decided 
they  did  not  contain  eatables.  With  a  disgusted 
snort  he  scattered  them  with  a  powerful  paw,  and, 
still  hungry,  turned  his  attention  to  Ross.  With 

203 


ROSS    GRANT 

his  huge  paws  again  planted  on  the  rock,  and  his 
huge  head  between,  he  stared  at  the  boy  out  of  small 
malevolent  eyes. 

"  G-r-r-r,"  was  his  greeting. 

Ross,  rooted  beside  the  fallen  tree,  felt  his  hair 
rise.  His  teeth  were  chattering. 

"G-r-r-r!"  came  again  from  Bruin.  He  grew 
taller,  his  neck  and  then  his  great  shoulders  ap 
pearing  above  the  rock.  He  advanced  his  paws 
and,  gripping  the  crevices  of  the  rock  with  his  pow 
erful  nails,  began  to  draw  his  huge  hind  parts 
upward. 

Then  it  was  that  Ross  was  galvanized  into  action. 
He  cleared  the  distance  between  the  fallen  tree  and 
the  standing  tree  in  a  couple  of  bounds  and  climbed 
as  he  had  never  climbed  before,  while  the  bear 
Wo-ofed  behind  him  and  clawed  the  rock  for  a  foot 
hold.  With  elbows  and  fingers,  knees  and  heels 
Ross  dug  into  the  rough  bark  as  he  shinned  up  the 
trunk  frantically.  Boughs,  living  and  dead,  encir 
cled  the  trunk  thickly  fifteen  feet  above  the  rock, 
while  a  dense  thicket  of  smaller  boughs  and  needles 
sprang  from  the  parent  branches  close  to  the  tree 
trunk.  Up  through  this  stiff  tangle  of  foliage 
Ross,  with  set  teeth,  pushed  his  way  desperately. 
His  hands  were  bleeding  and  his  clothing  torn. 
His  cap  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  The  sharp 
needles  and  dead  branches  caught  his  head  and 

204 


GOLD    HUNTER 

scratched    his  face,   but  he  was  unconscious   of 
pain. 

Half-way  up  the  tree  climbing  became  easier. 
The  branches  thinned  out  until  there  were  bough- 
less  stretches  of  the  trunk  six  feet  and  more  apart. 
As  boldly,  but  not  as  agilely  as  Nicholas  Page, 
Ross  reached  for  the  upper  branches  and  swung 
his  feet  up,  clambering,  sprawling,  clutching, 
panting.  All  the  way  up  he  heard  the  bear's 
teeth  snapping  at  his  heels  and  the  animal's  growl 
just  behind  him.  He  did  not  stop  climbing  until 
he  had  reached  the  top  of  the  tree,  where  the 
branches  bent  and  swayed  beneath  his  weight. 
There  he  was  forced  to  stop.  Clinging  breathless 
and  shaking  to  the  tapering  tree  trunk  he  looked 
down  fearfully,  expecting  to  see  the  great  shaggy 
head  and  clinging  paws  just  below  his  feet. 


205 


CHAPTER  X 

SURPKISES  FOR  BOY  AND  BEAR 

ALL  that  Ross  could  see  as  he  looked  below  him 
was  the  fragrant  thicket  through  which  he  had 
forced  his  way.  He  listened  intently.  There  was 
no  stir  among  the  boughs.  Bruin  evidently  was 
not  climbing.  It  was  only  his  imagination  quick 
ened  by  fear  that  had  pictured  the  bear  at  his  heels. 
He  sat  on  a  swaying,  bending  branch,  clung  to  the 
tree  trunk  and  shuddered  with  fear.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  the  end  of  all  things  was  at  hand.  It 
was  one  thing  to  listen  to  Tod's  humorous  refer 
ence  to  the  bears  from  the  Yellowstone,  and  quite 
another  to  be  treed  by  one.  The  situation  held 
no  humorous  aspects. 

Suddenly  it  occurred  to  him  that  this  was  the 
very  evening  when  he  had  expected  to  arrive  at 
the  home  of  his  uncle  in  far-away  Pennsylvania. 
A  wave  of  homesick  longing  mingled  with  his 
fear.  He  could  see  Dr.  Grant  moving  about  his 
office,  lighting  the  lamps  while  Aunt  Anne,  in  the 
kitchen,  cooked  the  dinner.  But  more  than  any 
thing  else,  the  memory  of  the  home  sounds  ap- 

206 


GOLD    HUNTER 

pealed  to  him  ;  the  rattle  of  the  stove  covers,  the 
patter  of  Aunt  Anne's  slippers,  the  closing  of 
doors,  the  neigh  of  the  gray  horse  in  the  stable, 
the  low  murmur  of  the  near-by  brook,  the  voices 
of  the  passers-by — if  only  he  could  hear  a  human 
sound  now ! 

But  no  sound  of  any  kind  disturbed  the  stillness 
of  the  place.  It  was  a  stillness  that  betokened  an 
utter  lack  of  life,  but  the  boy,  marooned  in  the 
tree  top,  knew  that,  despite  the  silence,  there  was 
present  one  life  too  many. 

He  looked  up  at  the  peaks  helplessly  and  found 
them  bathed  in  the  red  of  the  dying  sun.  Some 
moisture  trickled  into  his  eyes  and  he  wiped  it 
away.  His  hand  showed  the  red  of  the  sunset. 
It  was  blood.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  he  noticed 
blood  on  the  front  of  his  coat  and  discovered  it 
trickling  down  from  his  face.  The  sharp  dead 
twigs  had  scratched  his  forehead  and  cheeks,  but 
he  had  felt  no  pain.  With  his  handkerchief  he 
wiped  his  face,  and  then,  folding  the  linen,  bound 
it  about  his  forehead  where  the  deepest  scratch 
was  located.  This  familiar  action  seemed  to  re 
store  again  his  power  of  coherent  thinking. 

He  sat  down  on  the  branch  and  tried  to  consider 
a  way  out  of  his  dilemma,  but  no  way  occurred  to 
him.  The  best  he  could  expect  was  to  remain  in 
the  tree  top  all  night.  This  was  in  case  Bruin 

207 


ROSS    GRANT 

chose  to  remain  below  instead  of  coming  up.  Sup 
pose,  however,  he  should  take  to  climbing?  Ross 
looked  up.  He  was  very  near  the  top.  The 
boughs  above  would  not  support  him,  and  yet  the 
trunk  would  support  the  bear.  If  he  went  to  the 
end  of  the  bough  on  which  he  sat,  it  would  be 
likely  to  snap  off  and  precipitate  him  below,  espe 
cially  with  the  additional  weight  of  the  bear. 

But  where  was  the  bear  ?  Ross  bent  down  and 
turned  and  twisted  in  every  direction  to  find  an 
opening  through  which  he  could  see  the  rock,  but 
in  vain.  Finally,  unable  to  endure  the  suspense 
longer,  he  kicked  the  tree  trunk  vigorously  and 
shouted.  The  noise  had  the  desired  effect  of  locat 
ing  his  captor.  There  was  a  movement  below, 
loud  sniffs  and  an  impatient  growl. 

"  Great  Scott  I  "  muttered  Ross  weakly.  "This 
will  do  for  a  feeler.  Now  I'll  keep  quiet." 

But  silence  on  his  part  did  not  mean  silence  on 
the  part  of  the  bear.  There  came  a  persistent 
"  scratch,  scratch "  from  below.  At  first  Ross 
thought  the  animal  was  upward  bound,  but  he 
quickly  decided  that  Bruin  was  carefully  sharp 
ening  his  claws  on  the  tree  trunk,  not  a  pleasant 
nor  a  reassuring  sound. 

On  the  further  side  of  the  grassy  valley  the 
horse  was  grazing  undisturbed.  The  wind  was 
fortunately  in  the  direction  of  the  bear.  Fainter 

208 


GOLD    HUNTER 

and  fainter  on  the  peaks  grew  the  red  of  the  sun 
set,  and  lower  and  blacker  grew  the  shadows 
below. 

Presently  Ross's  shivers  of  fear  merged  into 
shivers  from  the  fall  in  temperature.  He  could 
see  the  edge  of  the  rock  furthest  from  the  tree, 
where  his  blanket  lay.  The  sight  was  a  tantaliz 
ing  one.  It  lay  beside  the  gun  which  Todliad 
added  to  his  outfit  against  such  an  occasion  as  this. 
If  only  he  had  it  he  might  be  able  to  frighten  the 
animal,  if  not  hit  him.  On  the  other  side  of  his 
airy  perch  was  another  irritating  sight ;  the  pile 
of  dry  pine  boughs. 

"  Why  on  earth  didn't  I  set  fire  to  that  pile  in 
stead  of  shinning  up  this  tree  ?  "  he  asked  himself 
in  exasperation. 

He  dove  into  his  pockets  one  after  another,  but 
the  only  defense  against  his  adversary  was  a  strong 
jack-knife,  matches  and  the  string  which  Tod  had 
insisted  on  his  bringing.  The  scratches  on  his 
face  and  hands  were  beginning  to  smart.  He 
peered  at  the  scattered  supplies  on  the  further  side 
of  the  rock  and  wondered  if  his  scant  supply  of 
"  first  aids  "  was  uninjured. 

Cold  and  cramped,  he  stood  up  finally,  cling 
ing  to  the  tree  trunk.  The  boughs  swayed  and 
scraped  against  each  other.  Instantly  there  was 
a  response  from  further  down  the  tree.  Evidently 

209 


ROSS    GRANT 

Bruin  had  waited  as  long  as  he  intended  for 
Ross  to  come  down  and  feed  him.  Therefore,  he 
started  up. 

Ross's  hair  seemed  to  rise  as  he  heard  the  tear 
ing  of  the  great  claws  in  the  bark  and  the  grunts 
and  labored  breathing  of  the  bear.  Desperately 
he  looked  up  and  then  along  the  limb  on  which 
he  stood,  but  along  neither  way  lay  the  path  to 
safety.  The  animal  was  in  no  hurry,  and  it  seemed 
to  Ross  that  during  the  next  two  or  three  minutes 
he  lived  a  dozen  years  and  thought  of  everything 
that  he  knew,  but  especially  vivid  was  the  impres 
sion  of  Nicholas  Page.  What  wouldn't  he  give  to 
hear  Nick's  familiar  war-whoop,  and  see  the  spot 
ted  pony  wheeling  into  the  valley.  But,  without 
a  gun,  what  could  the  Monkey  do  ?  At  once  the 
answer  flashed  into  Ross's  mind  and  brought  with 
it  an  idea  that  arrested  all  others  and  beat  them 
into  a  retreat. 

Woof — grunt — scratch — the  sounds  came  nearer 
accompanied  by  a  snapping  and  crashing  of  the 
branches  as  Bruin  forced  his  way  through  the 
tangle. 

Ross  heard,  but  his  attention  and  all  his  energy 
were  now  focussed  on  his  idea,  and  when  an  idea 
obsessed  the  boy,  he  acted  on  it  calmly,  every 
move  counting.  Quickly  he  lowered  himself  to 
the  bough  adjacent  to  a  dead  limb.  Whipping 

210 


GOLD    HUNTER 

out  his  knife  he  cut  a  bunch  of  dry  twigs  and 
bound  them  together  with  a  string,  winding  it 
around  and  around  the  bunch  and  tying  it  in 
many  places  so  that  when  one  knot  was  destroyed 
the  bunch  would  be  still  held  together.  As  he 
tied  the  last  knot,  a  brown  shaggy  head  was  forced 
up  through  the  boughs  into  view,  and  a  huge  paw 
came  slipping  up  the  trunk,  felt  of  the  rough  sur 
face  and  then  was  securely  clamped  in  its  position 
by  great  sharp  claws. 

Ross  leaned  over  and  paused.  The  bear  looked 
up  and  paused.  The  boy's  hair  completed  its  ris 
ing  process,  but  his  teeth  were  firmly  clinched, 
and  his  hand  did  not  falter  as  he  dove  into  his 
pocket,  depositing  the  knife  and  securing  a  couple 
of  matches,  while  Bruin  blinked  and  pushed 
aside  the  smaller  branches  with  powerful  thrusts 
of  his  head. 

With  a  greater  assurance  than  he  had  shown 
when  he  was  learning  the  lesson,  Ross  put  the 
Monkey's  teaching  to  a  practical  use.  It  was  his 
only  way  of  carrying  out  his  plan  quietly  and 
effectively.  The  fagots  at  the  end  of  a  pole  would 
have  done  better  work,  but  Ross  had  neither  time 
nor  opportunity  to  secure  the  pole,  therefore  he 
hooked  his  knee  over  the  limb  on  which  he  sat, 
twisted  his  ankle  about  the  other  leg  and  steadily 
applied  his  lighted  match  to  the  end  of  his  bundle 

211 


ROSS    GRANT 

of  fagots.  As  soon  as  one  twig  blazed  he  coolly 
dropped  the  match  in  the  bear's  face. 

The  experiment  proved  satisfactory.  Bruin  gave 
an  angry  growl  and  shook  off  the  stinging,  tiny 
blaze.  But  he  looked  with  new  respect  on  its 
wielder,  and  hesitated.  The  fagots  in  Ross's  hand 
blazed  brightly,  and  instantly  he  swung  head 
downward  and  at  arm's  length  thrust  the  blaze 
into  the  face  of  the  astonished  bear. 

The  effect  was  instantaneous.  The  bear,  his 
hair  singed  and  his  eyes  blinded  and  filled  with 
smoke,  backed  downward,  precipitately  growling. 
Ross,  the  blood  rushing  to  his  head,  unable  to 
maintain  his  position,  in  a  moment  dropped  the 
blazing  bundle  on  the  bear's  head  and  grasping 
the  limb  below  let  go  with  his  feet  and  swung, 
faint  and  dizzy,  a  moment  before  he  could  find 
another  foothold.  But  the  bear,  burned  and 
terror  stricken,  lost  his  foothold  and  fell,  crash 
ing  through  the  limbs,  clawing  frantically  with 
his  forepaws  at  his  burning  hair.  He  struck  the 
rock  in  a  rage  of  pain,  and  started  for  the  under 
brush  between  the  rock  and  the  foot  of  Indian 
Ledge,  filling  the  valley  with  the  echoes  of  his 
wrath. 

Ross  lost  no  time  in  leaving  his  uncomfortable 
perch.  He  swung  himself  stiffly  and  painfully 
from  limb  to  limb,  until  he  dropped  to  the  rock. 

212 


GOLD   HUNTER 

On  this  he  sat  down  hastily  and  unexpectedly,  his 
legs  doubling  beneath  him,  half  paralyzed  with 
fear  and  cold  and  the  unusual  strain  put  upon 
them.  For  a  moment  he  sat  listening  to  the  bear 
threshing  about  in  the  bushes  whimpering  and 
growling.  Then,  on  hands  and  knees  he  crawled 
to  his  pile  of  fire-wood  and  touched  a  match  to  it. 
Sitting  before  the  blaze  he  stretched  out  his  legs, 
rubbing  and  slapping  them  until  they  would  once 
more  bear  his  weight.  Then,  securing  his  gun, 
he  crossed  the  valley  in  search  of  his  horse.  If 
the  bear  intended  to  remain  near  him  all  night  it 
behooved  him  to  look  out  for  his  mount.  He  un- 
hobbled  the  pony  and  tethered  it  near  the  fire. 
Then,  with  the  gun  within  reach  of  his  hand,  he 
proceeded  to  gather  up  his  scattered  supplies  and 
carry  them  also  near  the  fire.  Not  until  he  had 
these  secured  did  he  attend  to  the  skin  wounds  his 
face  and  hands  had  suffered. 

As  he  sat  on  his  blanket  warming  his  back 
beside  the  blaze  and  applying  adhesive  plaster 
where  it  was  needed,  he  continued  to  hear  the 
bear  growl.  Evidently  the  beast  was  not  station 
ary,  but  was  making  a  half-circle  of  the  valley, 
returning  repeatedly  to  the  spot  where  the  forest 
most  nearly  approached  the  rock. 

"  He  may  be  a  Yellowstone  tourists7  pet  to  begin 
with,"  said  Ross  aloud,  "but  he  is  certainly  too 

213 


ROSS    GRANT 

mad  now  to  be  a  pet  of  any  kind !  I  don't  want 
him  to  catch  me  napping  to-night." 

So  saying,  he  reached  for  the  hatchet  and  began 
once  more  to  hack  off  the  dry  branches  from  the 
fallen  tree,  pushing  the  fire  under  the  trunk,  mak 
ing  of  it  a  huge  back-log  that  would  blaze  merrily 
all  night  spurred  on  by  the  smaller  pieces  of  pine 
fuel.  It  was  nearly  dark  now,  and  the  stars  were 
beginning  to  appear  in  a  sky  so  deeply  blue  that 
it  seemed  black.  As  the  darkness  deepened  the 
bear's  growls  indicated  a  nearer  approach,  and 
Ross  uneasily  hugged  the  fire,  gun  in  hand.  The 
brute  evidently  had  crept  to  the  edge  of  the 
thicket,  not  a  dozen  rods  away.  The  underbrush 
cracked  and  rustled  with  his  threshings.  The 
horse,  scenting  him,  moved  uneasily  to  the  end 
of  his  tethering  rope  and  stood  snorting.  Twice 
the  boy  raised  the  gun  to  fire  into  the  brush,  but 
hesitated.  The  animal  was  already  injured  and 
enraged.  If  a  stray  bullet  should  chance  to  graze 
him  his  rage  might  outweigh  his  fear  of  both  fire 
and  gun.  Of  man,  it  was  evident,  he  had  no  fear. 

He  lowered  his  gun  the  second  time  p.nd  leaned 
on  the  butt  irresolutely.  The  mountains  had  burst 
into  sound.  Under  cover  of  the  darkness,  the 
coyotes  were  beginning  their  nightly  concert.  It 
came  in  long-drawn  cries  and  short,  sharp  barks, 
coyote  answering  coyote  from  the  forests  on  every 

214 


GOLD    HUNTER 

side — a  familiar  concert  to  Ross,  punctuated  by  the 
unfamiliar  growls  of  the  bear. 

Suddenly,  without  the  warning  of  sound  or 
movement,  a  shot  awakened  the  echoes  of  the 
valley  and  startled  the  boy.  Instantly  its  echoes 
silenced  the  coyotes.  Ross  rushed  to  the  end  of 
the  rock  and  stood  peering  into  the  blackness  that 
enveloped  the  thicket.  There  was  an  interval  of 
quiet,  followed  by  two  more  shots,  the  gun  being 
discharged  fairly  in  Ross's  ears,  it  seemed  to  him. 

As  the  last  echo  died  away  he  shouted,  but  re 
ceived  no  answer  to  his  call.  He  listened.  The 
silence  was  broken  only  by  the  rustle  of  the  wind 
among  the  branches  over  his  head.  There  was  no 
movement  of  either  man  or  beast  in  the  under 
brush. 

Cupping  his  hands  about  his  mouth  he  sent  out 
a  strong  and  sonorous,  "Hello  !  Hello,  there  !  " 

The  valley  continued  silent.  For  a  long  time 
he  stood  irresolute,  helloing  at  intervals.  There 
was  no  answer  to  his  calls,  and  no  further  human 
sound  reached  his  ears.  Presently  the  coyote  con 
cert  began  again  and  he  retreated  to  the  fire,  where 
he  sat  down,  his  back  against  the  rock,  his  knees 
bunched  up  to  his  chin,  and  stared  blankly  into 
the  velvety  darkness.  Despite  the  cessation  of  the 
bear's  growls,  he  was  far  from  easy.  He  had  sup 
posed  himself  to  be  twenty  miles  from  a  living 

215 


ROSS    GRANT 

soul.  Whose  hand  had  drawn  the  trigger  of  that 
gun,  and  why  did  the  gunman  not  make  himself 
known  ?  He  must  have  crept  into  the  thicket  and 
fired  at  close  range  on  account  of  the  darkness. 
Was  he  there  now  beside  his  game  ?  He  might  be 
an  outlaw  lurking  in  the  mountains.  Ross  had 
heard  of  such  men,  and  did  not  desire  to  make  their 
acquaintance. 

Finally,  his  fatigue  overcame  his  fear,  and  piling 
fresh  branches  on  his  fire,  he  wrapped  himself  in 
his  blanket  and  lay  down  under  the  edge  of  the 
rock.  In  a  moment  he  was  asleep. 

When  he  awakened,  the  sun  shone  in  his  face, 
and  the  fire  was  a  mass  of  glowing  embers.  The 
valley  lay  placid  and  still  before  him.  Not  a 
coyote  could.be  heard.  He  threw  his  blanket  off 
and  arose  stiffly.  His  horse  was  grazing  at  the 
end  of  its  tether.  His  outfit  lay  undisturbed  be 
side  him.  Over  the  edge  of  the  rock  he  looked 
toward  the  thicket.  It  was  trampled  and  broken, 
and  in  the  midst,  on  his  side,  his  great  paws 
extended,  his  huge  head  thrown  back,  lay  the 
bear. 

Ross  made  his  way  to  the  animal  with  diffi 
culty.  The  effects  of  the  previous  day's  ride  and 
nerve-strain  had  not  yet  disappeared,  and  the  boy 
was  obliged  to  rub  his  legs  briskly  before  they 
would  obey  his  call  to  action.  He  found,  as  he 

216 


GOLD    HUNTER 

had  expected,  that  the  bear  had  met  death  from 
bullets  fired  at  such  close  range  that  the  powder 
had  scorched  the  animal's  fur.  But  the  hunter 
had  not  followed  up  his  conquest  by  securing  the 
beast's  hide.  The  bear  had  done  considerable 
tramping  in  every  direction,  so  that  the  boy  failed 
to  find  any  distinctively  human  tracks. 

"  I  suppose  the  Monkey  might  find  them,"  he 
thought  as  he  hunted. 

Finally,  with  his  mind  reverting  to  the  main 
object  of  his  journey,  he  returned  to  his  fire,  and, 
over  the  coals,  prepared  breakfast,  and  then,  pack 
ing  up  the  remainder  of  his  supplies,  saddled  up 
and  was  off.  A  feeling  of  relief  assailed  him 
when  he  rounded  the  top  of  the  mountain  oppo 
site  Indian  Ledge  and  lost  sight  of  the  scene  of  his 
adventure  of  the  previous  night. 

"  No  more  bears  for  me,"  he  muttered,  "  if  I  am 
consulted  and  have  any  choice.  One  is  enough  to 
last  a  lifetime  !  " 

Before  starting  he  had  consulted  his  notes : 
"  Follow  the  seam  to  the  right,  opposite  Indian 
Ledge,"  they  ran,  "  and  then  follow  the  spur  that 
hitches  on  to  the  bottom  of  the  seam.  On  the  far 
side  of  this  you  face  three  peaks.  Take  the  center 
one,  and  scramble  for  it."  The  wording  was  Tod's. 
"  At  the  foot  of  the  middle  mountain  on  other  side 
follow  a  creek  the  way  your  shadow  falls  until  you 

217 


ROSS    GRANT 

come  to  the  Valley  of  the  Willows.  A  basin. 
Water.  Dinner  here." 

At  this  point  Ross  put  the  notes  into  his  pocket. 
He  had  memorized  the  way  thus  far.  "  At  dinner 
time  I'll  go  over  the  rest,"  he  decided. 

All  went  according  to  his  schedule  until  noon. 
He  traveled  with  the  gun  across  the  pommel  of  his 
saddle  and  his  eyes  and  ears  open,  not  only  for 
bears  but  for  the  killer  of  his  late  adversary,  but 
the  morning  passed  without  a  discovery  of  either. 
After  a  "  scramble  "  up  the  side  of  a  low  wooded 
mountain,  he  came  on  a  creek,  and  followed  his 
shadow  until  noon  brought  him  to  the  Valley  of 
the  Willows.  Hunger  compelled  a  hot  dinner, 
and  weariness  a  longer  rest  than  he  had  taken  at 
noon  the  previous  day.  Spreading  out  his  blanket, 
he  lay  on  his  back  among  the  willows,  and  with 
out  intending  to  fell  asleep,  his  hat  shading  his 
face. 

It  was  three  o'clock  before  he  tossed  his  hat 
aside  and  struggled  dizzily  to  his  feet  with  a  loud 
exclamation  of  impatience  with  himself.  Hastily 
throwing  his  blanket  across  the  pommel,  he 
mounted  and  hurried  the  horse  out  of  the  Valley 
of  the  Willows  along  the  trail,  across  a  nameless 
granite  pile  which  marked  the  first  of  three  ranges 
separating  him  from  Sheep's  Horn.  The  pile  had 
been  described  by  Tod  as  "  sort  of  a  hunchback  of 

218 


GOLD    HUNTER 

rock  above  where  the  willows  grow  the  thickest. 
It's   the  highest  in  its  range  as  far  as  you  can 


see." 


On  the  other  side  Ross,  following  directions, 
pushed  on  rapidly  up  a  creek  which  led  him  deeper 
and  deeper  into  a  canon  with  towering  sides  and 
gloomy  depths.  With  his  notes  in  his  hand  he 
looked  doubtfully  at  the  imprisoning  walls.  Tod 
had  not  mentioned  a  canon. 

"  But  this  is  the  creek  he  described,"  Ross  mut 
tered.  "  It  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  range  after 
leaving  the  Valley  of  the  Willows,  and  I  was  to 
follow  it  for  two  hours.  I  must  be  right." 

On  and  on  he  rode  deeper  into  the  gloom.  A 
feeling  of  uncertainty  assailed  him.  He  drew  in 
his  horse  and  went  over  the  notes  again.  He  re 
called  what  Tod  had  said.  Not  a  word  about  a 
canon,  but,  by  the  description,  this  must  be  Wind 
Creek,  a  tributary  of  Wind  River.  He  put  up  his 
notes,  and  rode  on  and  on  resolutely.  Two  hours 
passed,  and  still  the  canon  showed  no  signs  of 
yielding  to  a  valley. 

"  There's  a  difference  in  horses'  speeds,"  Ross 
told  himself.  "  An  experienced  rider  would  urge 
an  animal  faster  than  I,  and  so  reach  the  valley 
within  two  hours." 

Another  hour  he  rode,  and  then  to  his  relief  the 
mountains  on  either  hand  seemed  to  crumble 

219 


ROSS    GRANT 

away.  Lower  and  lower  they  bent  their  heads,  at 
last  giving  way  to  a  plateau  covered  with  an 
abundant  growth  of  grass  which  caused  his  tired 
horse  to  step  faster.  Ross  dismounted  and  looked 
about.  He  drew  out  the  notes  once  more.  There 
was  no  plateau  set  down  on  his  paper.  According 
to  Tod  he  should  have  arrived  an  hour  ago  at  a 
tiny  bowl-shaped  valley  swept  about  by  a  great  bow- 
shaped  mountain,  with  a  pass  on  the  east.  That 
was  the  opening  through  which  man  and  horse 
could  travel  and  in  another  hour  face  Sheep's 
Horn. 

Ross  had  lost  the  trail  I 

He  looked  at  his  watch,  swallowing  hard.  It 
was  nearly  seven.  The  sun  was  dipping  down 
toward  the  western  range  of  mountains  a  mile  away. 
Close  against  him  on  the  east  was  a  range  of  low 
barren  hills  covered  with  huge  boulders  and  sage 
brush.  On  the  top  of  one  a  coyote  sat  and  cried 
like  a  child  in  agony.  Ross  drew  in  his  breath 
sharply,  and  leaned  against  the  saddle,  allowing 
the  horse  to  crop  grass. 

"  If  I  could  find  where  I  had  made  the  mistake," 
he  muttered,  "  I  could  go  back  and  pick  up  my 
trail.  But  I  have  come  according  to  Tod." 

He  raised  his  face  to  the  hills,  and  then  started 
back  with  a  muffled  cry,  and  stared  at  the  summit 
of  one  hill  taller  than  the  others,  a  quarter  of  a 

220 


GOLD    HUNTER 

mile  away.  A  sudden  gleam  had  flashed  from  this 
point  across  his  eyes,  causing  him  to  dodge.  In 
stantly  he  thought  of  Tod  the  previous  morning 
with  his  Fourth-of-July  lightning  flash.  A  para 
lyzing  suspicion  occurred  to  him.  He  leaned  again 
on  the  saddle,  facing  the  eastern  hills.  Again 
there  came  a  flash,  which  might  have  been  a  sig 
nal,  but  he  felt  sure  it  was  not.  He  located  it  now 
beneath  a  pile  of  rocks  near  the  summit  of  the  hill 
on  which  the  sun  cast  strong,  level  rays. 

As  his  suspicion  grew,  the  boy's  lips  formed  a 
pale  but  determined  line.  Forgotten  was  the  lost 
trail  and  Sheep's  Horn.  He  sauntered  forward  as 
carelessly  as  he  was  able,  reconnoitered  for  a  camp 
ing-place,  selected  a  spot  at  the  foot  of  the  first  hill, 
unpacked  his  horse,  and,  hobbling  him,  sent  him 
out  into  the  valley  in  sight  of  the  third  hill.  Then 
without  delay  he  made  a  detour  around  the  first 
hill,  and,  coming  in  back  of  the  third,  began  to 
climb  it  slowly  and  cautiously,  pausing  every  few 
steps  to  look  and  listen,  The  sun  had  dropped  be 
low  the  opposite  peaks,  and  the  east  side  of  the  hill 
already  lay  in  a  deep  shadow  which  screened  him. 

Emerging  on  top,  he  turned  toward  that  part 
from  which  the  flash  had  come,  and  crept  along 
from  bush  to  bush  and  rock  to  rock  until  he  came 
to  the  pile  on  the  summit,  from  which  he  looked 
down  on  the  plateau  and  his  grazing  horse.  Here 

221 


ROSS    GRANT 

he  paused,  uncertain  of  his  next  step,  until  a  voice 
beneath  his  feet  caused  him  to  start. 

"  D'ye  see  'im,  Sandy  ?  "  Waymart  McKenzie 
asked  the  question,  and  Sandy  answered  it. 

"  Nope.  He's  makin'  camp  up  there  near  the 
spring.  We  might  as  well  turn  in." 

Ross  dropped  on  his  face,  and,  dragging  himself 
to  the  edge  of  the  rock  on  which  he  stood,  looked 
down  on  the  heads  of  Sandy  and  Waymart.  Sandy 
was  scanning  the  valley  through  his  long  telescope 
whose  highly  polished  brass  mountings  glittered 
and  flashed  in  the  face  of  the  setting  sun. 


222 


CHAPTER  XI 

A   TRIUMPH    FOR   SANDY 

Ross  made  his  way  back  as  cautiously  as  he  had 
come,  although  he  was  trembling,  not  from  fear, 
but  excitement  and  dismay.  He  had  played 
straight  into  the  hands  of  Sandy  McKenzie.  Sandy 
was,  in  truth,  a  "  deep  one."  It  was  evident  that, 
having  got  rid  of  Trigger,  whom  he  could  no  longer 
use,  he  had  been  watching  the  Valley  of  the  Pass 
for  two  days  from  the  top  of  Elk.  Tod  had  evi 
dently  caught  a  flash  from  Elk  that  he  thought 
was  lightning.  Then,  the  previous  morning,  the 
long  vigil  had  been  rewarded  by  the  sight  of  Ross 
starting  out  with  a  packhorse.  The  McKenzies 
had  followed,  confident  that  his  trail  would  lead 
them  to  Lucky  and  Holzworth's  gold  discovery. 
They  had  not  been  far  away  the  previous  night  and, 
of  course,  Bruin  had  met  his  death  at  their  hands. 

Here  Ross  drew  a  long  breath.  It  was  white  of 
them  to  help  him  get  a  good  night's  sleep  even  at 
the  risk  of  having  him  suspect  who  the  gunman 
was.  "  Still,"  he  thought,  "  Sandy  was  probably 
afraid  that  if  I  didn't  get  in  a  little  sleep,  I'd  not 
be  worth  much  on  the  trail  to-day  ! " 

223 


ROSS    GRANT 

At  the  foot  of  the  hill  Ross  saw,  in  the  dim 
ming  light,  three  horses  tethered  on  the  other 
side  of  a  little  valley  formed  by  the  three  hills. 

"  They  didn't  trust  to  hobbling,"  he  decided, 
"  for  fear  their  horses  would  come  over  with 


mine." 


The  McKenzies,  in  their  superior  knowledge  of 
the  mountains,  must  have  come  by  a  shorter  route 
than  he  took.  They  had  made  their  camp  and 
then  climbed  to  their  outlook  to  watch  him  ar 
rive.  In  the  morning,  he  thought,  they  would, 
from  the  same  post,  observe  his  departure,  and 
then  follow,  perhaps,  by  another  way. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  short.  Follow?  Where 
to?  The  trail  was  lost.  Where  was  he  going  in 
the  morning  ?  Not  until  these  questions  assailed 
him  did  he  realize  that  he  still  held  the  situation 
in  his  own  hands.  Had  he  made  no  mistake  in 
the  trail,  he  would  now  have  been  with  Lucky, 
and  the  McKenzies  would  have  been  in  their 
vicinity  and  they  unconscious  of  the  presence  of 
the  intruders.  As  it  was,  the  claim  jumpers  were 
fooled  again. 

He  felt  as  relieved  as  when  he  discovered  that 
Lucky  had  changed  the  letters.  Getting  lost 
had,  after  all,  its  compensation,  and  he  grinned 
cheerfully  as  he  hurried  through  the  sage-brush 
to  his  camp. 

224 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  I'll  simply  go  back  in  the  morning  the  way 
I  came/'  he  chuckled,  "  and  lead  ;em  back  to  old 
Elk.  Then,  maybe,  Tod  can  find  a  way  for  me 
to  fool  'em.  Or  perhaps  Lucky  is  back  already 
at  the  Pass  now." 

The  disappointment  at  the  failure  of  his  quest 
and  the  bewilderment  over  the  loss  of  his  way 
were  swallowed  up  in  delight  at  thwarting  the 
McKenzies,  and  he  whistled  jubilantly  as  he  went 
about  supper.  Taking  his  coffee-pot,  he  found  the 
source  of  the  little  creek  beside  which  he  had 
journeyed  up  the  canon.  It  was  a  spring  bub 
bling  out  of  the  side  of  the  second  hill,  clear  and 
cold.  Filling  his  pot,  he  looked  after  his  horse 
grazing  a  short  distance  away,  and  returned  to  his 
camp  with  many  furtive  glances  toward  the  dark 
ening  side  of  the  third  hill. 

But  when  darkness  fell,  and,  wrapped  in  his 
blanket,  he  lay  beside  his  fire  listening  to  the 
coyotes  and  the  munching  of  the  horse,  he 
thought  with  relief  of  the  two  men  the  other 
side  of  the  hills.  They  were  near  enough  to 
help  out  in  case  another  bear  should  prove  too 
attentive ! 

The  following  morning  he  was  astir  early,  and 
soon  after  sunrise  rode  down  into  the  canon 
headed  toward  Elk  Pass.  For  an  hour  he  rode 
gayly  enough  thinking  of  the  dismay  of  the 

225 


ROSS    GRANT 

McKenzies.  He  scanned  the  peaks  towering  on 
either  side  and  wondered  on  which  side  they 
were  journeying  and  if  they  had  a  smooth  trail 
to  travel. 

"  They  must  take  a  parallel  course/'  he  rea 
soned,  "  and  keep  me  in  sight  from  the  *  roof  of 
the  world.' " 

After  journeying  a  couple  of  hours  he  began  to 
look  for  the  trail  by  way  of  which  he  had  come 
into  the  canon,  the  trail  over  the  "  hunchbacked 
mountain,  the  tallest  in  sight."  No  such  forma 
tion  appeared,  and  Ross's  whistle  died  in  his  throat 
as  he  realized  that  a  mountain  does  not  appear  the 
same  on  both  sides.  He  recollected,  however,  that 
he  had  emerged  from  the  trail  between  a  huge 
boulder  and  an  overshadowing  pine  tree  close 
beside  the  creek,  and  when  he  reached  the  bases 
of  two  mountains  so  marked,  he  turned  his  horse's 
head  that  way,  and  began  mounting  the  one  on 
the  left,  fighting  back  the  suspicion,  which  was 
gaining  ground  every  moment,  that  he  had  never 
before  set  eyes  on  his  surroundings.  There  must 
have  been  other  pine  trees  and  other  boulders 
similarly  situated  in  the  canon.  There  was  no 
well  defined  trail  here  and  he  zigzagged  along 
the  side  of  the  mountain,  groping  his  way  among 
a  dense  forest  of  pine  and  hemlock. 

"  I'll  go  on  a  way,"  he  decided,  "  and  see  if  I 

226 


GOLD    HUNTER 

can't  find  the  trail,  and  if  I  can't,  I'll  go  back  to 
the  canon  and  find  another  rock  and  tree." 

For  an  hour  he  rode,  his  bewilderment  growing 
momentarily.  He  had  never  noticed  before  what 
an  awful  similarity  there  is  in  the  mountains  that 
rise  one  after  the  other,  range  after  range,  canon 
after  canon,  pass  after  pass.  And  with  every  ad 
vance  step  he  looked  to  see  the  forest  give  way  to 
the  Valley  of  the  Willows  where  he  had  camped 
the  night  before. 

"  If  I  don't  go  back,"  he  said  aloud  finally,  con 
fusedly,  "  I'll  lose  the  canon."  But  even  as  he 
spoke  he  knew  he  had  lost  it  already. 

He  turned  back,  or  thought  he  turned  back, 
and  traveled  another  hour.  He  came  to  a  canon, 
but  it  was  not  the  canon  he  had  left.  His  con 
fusion  grew  momentarily.  The  direction  in  which 
the  sun  was  traveling  came  to  mean  nothing  to 
him.  It  was  going  wrong.  The  bend  of  the  trees 
under  the  incessant  northwest  wind  meant  noth 
ing  to  him.  The  entire  world  was  turned  topsy 
turvy  and  with  it  his  head.  It  did  not  occur  to 
him,  when  he  first  turned,  to  retrace  his  steps  by 
means  of  the  impression  his  horse's  hoofs  left  on 
the  rotten  snow  beneath  the  trees.  The  one  fact 
which  was  beating  insistently  on  his  brain  was 
that  in  the  midst  of  thousands  of  square  miles 
of  wilderness  he  was  lost.  He  stopped  finally  in 

227 


ROSS    GRANT 

an  open,  grassy  space,  and  ate  a  little,  allowing 
his  horse  to  eat.  Then  he  took  his  head  between 
his  hands  and  tried  to  calm  himself  and  think 
coherently. 

Somewhere,  presumably,  the  McKenzies  were  on 
his  trail.  Perhaps,  when  they  saw  that  he  was 
lost,  they  would  make  their  presence  known.  On 
a  sudden  impulse  he  cupped  his  hands  around 
his  lips  and  sent  out  a  loud  "  Hello  I  "  His  voice 
died  away  among  the  trees  and  was  lost.  There 
was  no  response. 

Fighting  down  the  rising  terror  in  his  heart, 
the  boy,  keeping  his  horse  in  sight,  climbed  the 
mountain  to  the  topmost  rock  and  looked  about. 
On  this  side  and  that  other  peaks  soared  above 
him  into  the  blue  of  the  noon  sky,  and  forming  a 
bright  hem  to  their  skirts,  ran  little  creeks,  silver 
threads  here  and  there,  but  there  was  no  canon  to 
be  seen  on  one  side  nor  the  Valley  of  the  Willows 
on  the  other.  He  had  passed  from  one  mountain 
to  another  through  the  forest. 

From  his  vantage  point  the  boy  again  sent  out 
a  call,  but  it  brought  no  answer.  Presently  he 
returned  to  his  horse  and,  mounting,  set  off  reso 
lutely  down  the  first  stream  he  came  to.  He  had 
enough  reasoning  power  left  to  persuade  himself 
that  by  following  the  down  course  of  any  stream 
he  would,  providing  he  did  not  starve  first,  come 

228 


GOLD    HUNTER 

to  the  inhabited  valley  of  Wood  River  or  of  Wind 
River.  He  did  not  know  which  stream  these 
creeks  fed. 

Blindly  he  rode  on  until  his  watch  told  him  it 
was  three  o'clock.  He  was  traveling  a  gorge  be 
tween  two  ranges  which  came  gradually  closer 
and  closer  together  until  to  his  dismay,  when  he 
rounded  the  shoulder  of  a  spur,  he  found  his  way 
altogether  barred.  The  creek  became  a  waterfall. 
It  leaped  a  barrier  of  rock  at  the  spot  where  the 
ranges  closed  in  so  nearly  together  that  only  a 
wedge-like  opening  remained  through  which  the 
water  raged  and  foamed  and  swept  onward,  lead 
ing  where  neither  man  nor  horse  could  follow. 

Ross  stopped  with  a  groan  of  dismay.  All  Na 
ture  seemed  to  be  opposing  him.  Yielding  to  his 
faintness — hunger  he  did  not  feel — he  unsaddled 
and  hobbled  his  horse,  turned  it  out  to  graze,  and 
building  a  fire,  ate  heartily  for  the  first  time  since 
morning.  Refreshed  and  stimulated,  he  arose,  and 
with  an  access  of  resolution  and  calmness  looked 
about  him.  He  was  at  the  foot  of  a  high  moun 
tain  shaped  like  a  huge  chocolate  drop  covered 
with  sage-brush  at  its  base  and  hemlock  trees  at 
its  summit.  Its  middle  sides  were  too  rock  bound 
to  support  trees  or  brush.  Above  the  dense  group 
of  hemlocks  on  top  loomed  a  great  rock.  Ross 
imagined  that,  from  the  top  of  that  rock,  he  could 

229 


ROSS    GRANT 

survey  the  lesser  peaks  for  miles  around  and  the 
better  lay  his  course. 

Doggedly  he  climbed,  clinging  to  rocks  and 
pulling  himself  up,  flattened  against  the  almost 
perpendicular  face  of  the  peak  to  avoid  falling 
over  backward.  Occasionally,  as  he  stopped  to 
breathe,  he  thought  he  detected  signs  of  recent 
life — a  displaced  stone,  a  gouge  into  the  dirt,  a 
rock  freshly  chipped  by  a  hammer. 

This  sign  inspired  him  to  greater  exertions  that, 
at  length,  brought  him  to  the  edge  of  the  belt  of 
trees.  Here  the  rise  was  not  so  abrupt,  but  the 
obstacles  to  travel  were,  however,  greater.  He 
found  himself  at  the  edge  of  a  tangle  of  scrub 
hemlock  and  fallen  trees  overgrown  with  sage 
brush.  He  paused.  It  seemed  impossible  to  push 
his  way  into  this  tangle,  but  above  it  towered  the 
rock  which  was  his  destination.  He  backed  out 
of  the  tangle  and  found  a  path  leading  around  it, 
a  path  that  seemed  to  have  no  legitimate  begin 
ning.  It  suddenly  sprang  into  being  outside  the 
thickest  part  of  the  tangle  and  wound  in  and  out 
among  the  outermost  trees  around  the  top  of  the 
chocolate-drop  mountain.  Ross  followed  it  in  a 
half-circle,  and  without  looking  to  see  where  it 
led,  he  scanned  the  great  rock  from  that  side. 
Here  it  was  perpendicular  and  unscalable.  There 
was  evidently  no  access  to  the  top  unless  through 

230 


HE    SUDDENLY    CLUTCHED    AT   THEM 


GOLD    HUNTER 

the  jungle  on  the  other  side,  and,  perhaps,  once  he 
had  broken  through  that  jungle  he  would  find  the 
rock  unapproachable  from  that  side  also. 

He  returned  to  the  trail.  He  could  look  out 
through  the  trees  and  catch  glimpses  that  per 
suaded  him  he  might,  as  he  had  suspected,  get  an 
uninterrupted  view  of  the  surrounding  country 
from  the  clear  top  of  that  rock.  He  went  back  to 
the  spot  where  the  trail  began,  or  at  least  began  to 
be  visible.  A  fallen  spruce  lay  across  the  spot  and 
sent  up  a  labyrinth  of  tangled  branches.  In  its 
fall  it  had  carried  with  it  scrub  pines  and  then  had 
buried  itself  in  thick  bushes. 

Knife  in  hand,  he  crept  and  pushed  and  cut  his 
way  into  the  tangle  beneath  the  fallen  tree.  He 
bruised  and  cut  his  hands  and  knees  on  the  up 
turned  edges  of  rocks.  All  the  rocks  among  this 
growth,  he  noticed,  were  turned  up  on  edge.  It 
was  the  end  of  a  vein  of  rock,  a  sudden  outcrop 
ping  of  stone  that  might  have  been  holding  its  way 
deep  down  under  the  ranges  for  hundreds  of  miles. 
Beyond  the  trunk  of  the  tree  he  stood  upright 
again  and  threw  his  weight  against  the  opposing 
thicket,  thus  forcing  his  way  forward  a  few  feet. 
This  brought  him  to  underbrush  less  dense,  and 
pushing  aside  the  low  hanging  boughs  of  a  grow 
ing  tree,  he  suddenly  clutched  at  them  frantically 
to  avoid  falling  into  a  pit  some  seven  feet  deep,  and 

231 


ROSS    GRANT 

fifteen  across.  He  drew  back  with  an  exclamation 
of  surprise.  Above  loomed  his  goal,  the  still  inac 
cessible  summit  of  the  outcropping  ledge.  Beneath 
it  the  ledge  had  been  blasted  away  and  the  debris 
thrown  out  of  the  pit  on  the  right  side.  Then  trees 
had  been  felled  among  the  undergrowth  of  ever 
greens,  -their  prostrated  foliage  a  complete  screen 
to  the  pit  and  the  refuse  heap.  The  tops  had 
fallen  outward  and  looked  like  the  work  of  the 
mighty  winds  which,  in  winter,  sweep  the  peaks. 
The  floor  of  the  pit  was  covered  with  ice  and 
snow  shielded  by  the  trees  from  any  touch  of  the 
sun's  rays. 

"  Somebody's  been  here,"  muttered  Ross,  "  and 
that  not  so  long  ago.  I  wish  he  were  here  now." 

Giving  another  longing  look  at  the  rock  above, 
he  pushed  his  way  out.  As  he  was  leaving  the 
jungle,  a  bit  of  quartz  at  his  feet  attracted  his  at 
tention.  He  picked  it  up,  glanced  at  it,  slipped  it 
into  his  pocket  and  forgot  it.  In  that  cursory 
glance  he  had  recognized  the  fact  that  it  was  dif 
ferent  from  any  quartz  he  had  heretofore  seen. 
There  was  a  streak  of  dull  yellow  along  the  surface, 
but  Ross  had  been  in  the  mountains  long  enough 
to  realize  the  truth  of  the  old  adage,  "  All  that 
glitters  is  not  gold."  Therefore,  the  streak  made 
only  a  passing  impression.  Instead  of  going  down 
to  his  horse  at  once,  he  determined  to  go  around  to 

232 


GOLD    HUNTER 

the  other  side  of  the  mountain  again  and  investi 
gate. 

"  It  feels  as  though  somebody  had  been  here 
lately,  as  well  as  looks  that  way,"  he  muttered 
aloud. 

Following  the  trail  back  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  summit,  he  found  it  turned  at  once  for  the 
descent  and  became  a  slide  rather  than  a  trail.  He 
stopped  and  examined  it  wonderingly.  Wherever 
the  rocks  gave  way  to  soil,  the  path  looked  as 
though  something  had  been  dragged  down  the 
slope,  the  slide  being  about  two  feet  wide.  In  one 
place  there  appeared  footprints,  and  when  Ross  saw 
those  he  whistled  and  began  to  look  about  him 
sharply.  Finally  a  bend  in  the  trail  brought  him 
out  of  the  forest  into  the  open,  overlooking  a  val 
ley  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide.  On  the  op 
posite  side  was  a  range  of  low  mountains,  rising 
easily  from  the  valley,  lightly  wooded  and  free 
from  snow.  Indeed,  the  whole  scene  had  a  pleas 
ing  appearance  of  summer  unusual  to  that  section 
in  June.  The  hot  sun  had  access  to  this  treeless 
valley,  and  had  chased  away  the  last  remnant  of 
winter. 

Ross  had  just  decided  that  he  would  find  a  way 
to  bring  his  horse  over  to  this  side  of  the  mountain 
and  make  his  night's  camp  in  the  valley,  when 
the  dirt  underneath  his  feet  gave  way.  He  sat 

233 


ROSS    GRANT 

down  unexpectedly  and  was  carried  rapidly  down 
the  slope  a  short  distance  on  top  of  a  miniature 
landslide  which  left  him  looking  down  at  an  object 
that  caused  him  to  burst  into  a  prolonged  and  al 
most  unconscious  shout.  Below  him,  clinging  to 
the  mountainside,  was  a  tiny  cabin  in  front  of  a 
great  flat  rock.  Ross  could  barely  see  the  roof 
with  its  dirt-chinked  logs.  A  small  stovepipe  pro 
jected  from  this  roof  and  out  of  it  rolled  a  lazy 
cloud  of  smoke. 

Hastily  Ross  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  was  about 
to  hurry  down,  when,  from  behind  a  rock  a  little 
distance  to  his  right,  a  man  arose,  his  great  frame 
straightening  itself  quickly  from  a  bent  posture, 
his  broad  shoulders  slowly  squaring  themselves, 
his  shaggy  head,  cap-crowned,  raised  alertly. 

"  Lucky  !  "  yelled  Ross.     "  Lucky  Frace  !  " 

Lucky  hastily  laid  a  hammer  and  microscope  on 
the  rock.  "  Talk  about  yer  surprise  parties  !  "  he 
cried.  "  This  is  sure  one  !  " 

"  One  surprise  party  !  "  yelled  Ross.  He  fairly 
hurled  himself  on  the  rock  in  his  joy.  "  One  sur 
prise  party  ?  Well,  I'm  one  myself,  and  if  you're 
another  there's  two !  Honor  bright,  I  never  was 
so  glad  to  see  anybody  in  my  life !  What  under 
the  sun  are  you  doing  away  off  here?  " 

"  Me  ?  "  Lucky's  face  twisted  into  an  odd  smile. 
He  looked  across  the  rock  in  some  embarrassment. 

234 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  I've  been  hammerin'  rocks  around  these  parts 
quite  extensive  the  last  few  days." 

"  Oh — yes  !  "  Ross  drew  back  as  though  he  had 
met  with  a  dash  of  ice  water.  He  looked  at  the 
great  ledge  towering  above  them,  at  the  hills  on 
the  other  side  of  the  smiling  valley  and  then  back 
to  Lucky.  "  Where  am  I,  anyway  ? "  he  de 
manded. 

Lucky  pulled  his  cap  from  his  head  and  ran  his 
fingers  through  his  hair.  "  Wall,  Doc,  you're 
where  I  am,  it  seems,  and  I'm  at  Sheep's  Horn. 
Where  did  ye  s'pose  you  was  at?  " 

Ross  drew  a  long  breath.  Unconsciously  to 
himself  his  manner  had  changed.  In  the  midst 
of  his  adventures  he  had  lost  sight  of  the  possible 
object  of  Lucky's  journey,  and  what  Sheep's  Horn 
stood  for. 

"  Why,  I — didn't  know  where  I  was,"  he  mut 
tered.  "  I'm — lost — or  was." 

"  Where  was  ye  bound  fer  ? "  asked  Lucky. 
He  drew  his  cap  down  until  the  brim  almost 
concealed  his  eyes. 

11  Why — for  you — at  first,"  Ross  stammered, 
"and  then,  when  I  lost  my  way,  I  set  out  to 
find  a  man — any  man  that  could  set  me  right 
again." 

Lucky's  deep-set  eyes,  from  under  the  cap  brim, 
studied  the  boy.  Ross's  glance  shifted  uneasily  as 

235 


ROSS    GRANT 

though  he  were  the  one  under  suspicion  of  unfair 
play.  The  man  spoke  first  in  his  usual  direct 
way  : 

"  Doc,  ye  started  out  t'  come  and  see  fer  yer- 
self  what  I  went  away  from  the  Pass  for,  didn't 
ye?" 

Ross  looked  up  at  the  Horn  and  down  at  the 
cabin,  and  then  blurted  out,  "  Yes,  I  did  !  That's 
exactly  what  I  came  for.  I  couldn't  leave  Wyo 
ming  and — leave  things — well,  all  tangled  up  as 
they  seem  to  be  !  " 

Lucky  nodded  without  any  show  of  resentment. 
"  Ye  thought  I  done  dirt  to  Hans."  He  spoke  in 
the  mountain  slang.  "  Didn't  ye  ?  " 

"  I  came,"  responded  Ross  doggedly,  "  to  prove 
that  you  didn't !  " 

A  slow  smile  lighted  the  other's  strong  face. 
"  Thank  ye,  Doc."  He  picked  up  his  hammer 
and  began  chipping  the  rock.  "  Mebby  it  can't 
never  be  proved,  but  I  hadn't  no  intention  of 
doin'  'im  dirt.  I  know  how  it  looks.  I  knew 
how  'twould  seem  to  ye  when  I  left,  but — wall,  I 
left  jest  the  same." 

He  stopped,  threw  the  hammer  down  and  stood 
straight.  "  Doc,  I've  run  onto  a  blind  lead,  I 
guess.  I  expected  t'  prove  up  my  claim  t'  bein' 
a  decent  friend  t'  Hans  afore  this,  but  I  hain't 
proved  nothin'.  But — Doc — someway  I'd  power- 

236 


GOLD    HUNTER 

ful  like  t'  have  ye  take  my  word  fer  things  and 
not  jedge  by  the  looks  of  'em  I  " 

There  was  a  wistfulness  in  Lucky 's  voice  that 
touched  the  boy.  He  came  close  beside  the  rock 
and  looked  into  the  man's  honest,  earnest  face. 
Then  he  held  out  a  hearty  hand.  "  Lucky,  what 
ever  you  say  goes  with  me  !  " 

Lucky  met  the  hand  with  a  grip  that  made  Ross 
wince.  He  began  his  explanations  haltingly,  as 
though  he  were  feeling  his  way  along  a  new  trail 
in  the  dark. 

"  Doc,  I  wish  I  could  satisfy  ye,  but  I  don't  be 
lieve  I  can.  Guess  ye'll  have  t'  do  as  ye  agreed 
and  take  my  word  fer  it  that  when  I  got  that  letter 
and  hiked  'er  over  here  t'  Sheep's  Horn  t'  try  t' 
find  Fred's  claims  and  look  out  fer  'em,  I  done 
what  I  thought  was  best." 

"  But  why  didn't  you  tell  me  what  you  were  up 
to  ?  "  demanded  Ross  hotly.  "  I  couldn't  bear  to 
think  you  meant  to  cheat  Hans,  but  after  every 
thing  that  went  between  us,  to  have  you  go  off 
without  saying " 

Lucky  raised  his  hand.  "  Hold  on,  Doc.  I 
reckoned  it  this  way :  I  wa'n't  doin'  ye  any  real 
harm  by  leavin'  ye  figurin'  on  it  in  the  dark,  but 
if  I  told  ye  what  I  believed  I  might  'a'  had  to  do 
some  one  else  real  harm — suspicions  is  mostly 
harmful,  I've  found." 

237 


ROSS    GRANT 

Ross  leaned  over  the  rock  eagerly.  "  Then  you 
did  suspect  Trigger  !  "  he  cried.  "  Tod  figured  it 
out  that  way  too  !  " 

"  Trigger — what  about  Trigger  ?  "  asked  Lucky, 
with  a  wariness  that  did  not  deceive  Ross. 

"  Yes,  you  did  suspect  him,"  he  accused  tri 
umphantly,  "  and  you  were  right  I  " 

Rapidly  he  related  the  circumstances  of  the 
night  when  Trigger  had  looked  at  the  letter. 
When  he  finished  Lucky  stood  staring  down  at 
the  little  cabin. 

"  Now,  Doc,  so  long  as  that's  sure,  I'll  go  back 
and  tell  ye  the  hull  thing.  I  begun  V  suspect  the 
day  after  Sandy  come  how  things  was  goin'.  I  seen 
Trig  was  gettin'  warped  Sandy's  way,  and  I  mis 
doubted  how  fur  it  would  go.  I  got  t'  suspectin' 
'im,  but  Trig's  a  pard  of  mine.  We've  et  together 
and  worked  together,  and  I  couldn't  let  no  one 
else  in  on  what  I  only  suspicioned.  That  wouldn't 
be  straight.  Fer,  Doc,  rec'lect,  I  didn't  know 
nothin'  positive  till  ye  told  me  now.  At  first  I 
couldn't  see  no  way  out.  Ye  couldn't  git  the 
letter,  and  if  ye  didn't  git  it  and  my  suspicions 
was  right,  Trig  would.  Even  if  it  was  locked  in 
yer  chest,  Sandy  could  frame  up  a  way  t*  have 
Trig  get  a  look  at  it,  because  Hans  is  in  Trig's 
shack.  No  one  could  keep  Trig  out  of  his  own 
shack.  So  I  framed  up  this  way  out.  It  was  on 

238 


GOLD    HUNTER 

my  mind  that  Fred  had  told  me  t'  look  out  fer 
his  brother,  and  I  seen  from  the  start  that  Hans 
can't  look  out  fer  himself  among  such  men  as  the 
McKenzies,  especially  without  our  lingo.  So  I 
fixed  it  t1  have  an  excuse  to  go  over  t'  Miners'  as 
soon  as  ye  told  me  the  name  at  the  end  of  the  line 
was  Sheep's  Horn.  I  was  afraid  that  Fred  hadn't 
got  his  claims  fixed  accordin'  t'  Wyomin'  law. 
He  hain't  worked  long  in  Wyomin'.  Colorado 
has  been  his  stampin'  ground.  Then  when  ye 
fixed  out  that  other  sheet  it  come  to  me  that  the 
only  safe  place  fer  the  real  letter  was  with  me, 
clean  away  from  Sandy  and  Trigger." 

Ross  nodded  assent. 

"  So  when  ye  went  out  t'  stretch  yer  legs  and 
Hans  fell  asleep  I  got  yer  dictionary  and  took  the 
paper  ye  marked  on  and  put  it  under  Hans'  pil 
low  and  took  the  real  letter  and  hiked  out." 
Lucky  paused  and  looked  sidewise  at  the  boy. 
"  Doc,  if  I  could  'a'  told  ye  without  goin'  back  on 
a  pard  I'd  'a'  done  it,  but  I  couldn't.  So  I  hiked 
out  and  covered  my  trail." 

Ross  extended  his  hand  across  the  rock  again 
and  caught  Lucky's,  the  hand  of  a  man  who  was 
willing  to  let  suspicion  fall  on  himself  rather  than 
"  go  back  on  a  pard." 

"  I  tell  you  what !  "  the  boy  exclaimed,  "  I  was 
so  astonished  myself  at  Trigger  that  I  lay  there  in 

239 


ROSS    GRANT 

my  bunk  like  a  log  of  wood  and  saw  him  go  out 
with  that  sheet  of  paper  and  come  back  with  it. 
It  was  some  time  before  I  could  do  any  thinking, 
and  no  use  of  thinking,  anyway.  The  whole  thing 
was  over  with,  as  I  believed,  and  the  outfit  were 
on  their  way  to  Sheep's  Horn.  Of  course  I  didn't 
know  then  that  the  real  letter  was  gone." 

"  It  was  my  idee,"  continued  Lucky  slowly, 
"  that  I'd  have  t'  be  gone  only  a  matter  of  a  couple 
of  days.  I  sorta  counted  on  hikin'  back  before 
anything  in  particular  broke  loose.  I  expected  t' 
look  up  Fred's  claim  and  see  if  he  had  done  every 
thing  necessary  to  hold  it,  so  I  could  be  a  witness 
to  its  bein'  straight  in  case  the  McKenzies  tried 
any  dodge  in  the  future,  and  then  get  back.  But 
Trigger's  always  in  a  hurry.  Whatever  he  does 
he  does  mighty  quick." 

" '  Trigger's '  a  good  name  for  him,"  assented 
Ross. 

"  Doc,  don't  be  too  hard  on  Trig."  Lucky 
pushed  his  cap  back.  "  Gold  is  powerful  temptin' 
to  most  men  when  it  seems  t'  lay  'round  easy  like 
t'  git  hold  of." 

"  Just  what  Tod  said,"  returned  Ross  quickly. 
"  I  must  say  Trig  acts  as  if  he  wished  he  hadn't 
been  tempted.  But  how  about  the  claim — Hans' 
claim?  Is  it  all  right?  Does  it  hold  according 

to  law?" 

240 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Lucky  sat  down  abruptly  on  the  rock  and 
swung  a  foot  slowly.  Slowly  he  continued  to 
chip  the  rock  and  throw  the  chips  down  toward 
the  cabin.  Ross  leaned  forward  resting  both  el 
bows  on  the  rock,  his  chin  in  his  palms. 

Lucky  turned  and  regarded  him  with  an  odd 
smile.  "  Doc,  I've  tramped  over  miles  of  the 
mountains  hereabouts.  I've  hunted  and  looked 
and  pried  and  peeked  and  I  can't  locate  hide  ner 
hair  of  Fred's  claim.  There's  tunnels  a-plenty 
and  claims  a-plenty  staked,  but  Fred's  name  is 
nowhere  ner  any  sign  of  a  claim  that  ain't  got  a 
name  on  it.  There  ain't  been  a  spadeful  of  dirt 
turned  up  in  two  years  'round  here  within  a  mile 
on  every  side  of  this  cabin.  Everybody  has  de 
serted  his  claim  or  else  proved  up  on  it  and  gone. 
Doc,  I  can't  make  it  out.  D'ye  s'pose  Fred  could 
V  been  luny  when  he  drawed  that  map?  Ye 
rec'lect  he  was  sick  at  the  time." 

Ross  fell  limply  on  the  rock.  "  See  here  I  "  he 
cried.  "  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  we've  had  all 
this  fuss  and  feathers  for  nothing  ?  Have  I  taken 
this  trip  and  been  treed  by  a  bear  and  been  made 
game  of  by  the  McKenzies  all  for  nothing  ?  " 

Lucky  scratched  his  head.  So  deep  was  his 
perplexity  that  he  did  not  hear  Ross's  reference  to 
the  bear.  "  Wall,  Doc,  I've  hunted  and  hunted 
and  then  hunted  again.  I've  bust  into  these  rocks 

241 


ROSS    GRANT 

all  over  here  to  make  sure  that  there  wa'n't  any 
promise  of  good  ore.  I  thought  it  queer  when  ye 
fust  see  the  name  '  Sheep's  Horn/  because  this 
mounting  ain't  even  staked.  Nobody  has  ever 
found  any  ore  here." 

Suddenly  Ross  started  up  with  an  exclamation, 
"  But  the  letter  !  What  does  the  letter  say  ?  Be 
side  the  map  of  the  trail  there  is  writing.  I  saw 
it  all  around  the  page — and  on  the  other  side." 

Lucky's  odd  smile  deepened.  He  unbuttoned 
his  coat  silently  and  drew  from  an  inside  pocket  the 
letter.  He  had  wrapped  it  carefully  in  a  page  of 
old  newspaper.  Still  wordless,  he  handed  it  over 
to  Ross,  who  seized  it  eagerly. 

This  way  and  that  he  turned  the  sheet,  his  face 
becoming  momentarily  blanker.  Finally,  hand 
and  letter  dropped  to  his  knee  as  he  lifted  his  per 
plexed  eyes  to  Lucky. 

"  Lucky,  that  writing  is  German  script,  and  I 
can't  read  a  word  of  it !  " 

"  German  script,"  repeated  Lucky.  "  I  thought 
it  was  jest  hen  tracks,  and  proved  that  Fred  was 
luny." 

Ross  shook  his  head  decidedly.  "  No,  it's 
regular  German  writing.  Their  letters  are  not 
like  ours,  but  just  the  glance  I  got  didn't  make 
me  wise  to  that.  I  thought,  of  course,  it  was 
written  in  English — the  names  are." 

242 


GOLD    HUNTER 

For  a  moment  neither  spoke  while  Ross  again 
studied  the  sheet  of  "  hen  tracks."  "  But  the  trail 
ends  in  Sheep's  Horn,"  he  said  finally. 

"  That  it  does/'  assented  Lucky.  He  pointed  to 
the  shack  below  them.  "  And  there's  where  Fred 
lived.  That  I  know." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  There's  his  supplies — all  he  didn't  use  up. 
He's  got  a  little  wood  cut  out  beside  the  cabin  and 
a  log  that  ain't  cut  up.  He  must  'a'  snaked  the 
logs  down  the  trail  there  behind  ye." 

"  Oh  !  "  Ross  looked  behind  him.  "  That  ex 
plains  the  trail.  It  looks  as  though  something 
had  been  dragged  over  it." 

"  Fred  must  have  snaked  some  logs  before  he 
turned  his  horses  loose  to  go  back  to  their  home 
ranch.  Why,  even  his  extry  blankets  is  down 
there  in  his  bunk." 

Ross  looked  about  wonderingly.  "  If  he  lived 
here — right  under  the  Horn,  he  surely  would 
work  around  here,  especially  since  he  didn't  keep 
a  horse  to  ride." 

"  No,  he  couldn't  have  gone  fur  to  work,  and 
that  makes  things  so  queer.  That's  what  made 
me  think  mebby  Fred  got  a  notion  in  his  head 
that  he  had  really  run  on  a  find  because  he 
wanted  to  s'  bad.  Ye  know  sick  folks  take  them 
notions." 

243 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  One  thing's  sure,"  muttered  Ross.  "  Even  if 
Trigger  had  seen  this  letter  he  wouldn't  have  been 
any  wiser  than  you  are,  nor " 

Here  the  boy  came  to  an  abrupt  stop.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet  and  turned  excitedly  on  the 
astonished  Lucky. 

"  I  forgot  them ! "  he  explained  incoherently. 
"  I  was  so  confused  by  getting  lost  and  seeing  you 
and  all  this  other The  McKenzies  are  prob 
ably  around  here  somewhere  looking  at  us  1 " 

"What?"  Lucky  almost  shouted.  "What's 
that  ye're  sayin'  ?  " 

"  The  McKenzies,"  insisted  Ross.  "  They  may 
be  within  hearing,"  he  lowered  his  voice  and 
looked  cautiously  about.  "  They  followed  me, 
and  it  was  the  first  thing  I  should  have  told  you," 
and  he  rapidly  outlined  his  journey. 

When  he  had  finished,  Lucky  leaned  forward, 
his  elbows  on  his  knees.  "  Wall,  Doc,  they're 
welcome  to  all  I've  found  here.  Now,  let's  set 
about  gittin'  yer  horse  over  on  this  side  with  mine 
and  rustlin'  some  grub." 

When  Ross  pointed  out  the  way  he  had  come, 
Lucky  shook  his  head.  "  Ye  took  the  hardest 
way  acrost.  Nobody  has  ever  got  t'  the  top  of  the 
old  stone  Horn  as  I  knows  of.  But  s'  long  as  it 
led  ye  here  I'm  glad  ye  tried  to  find  a  way  t' 

climb  it." 

244 


GOLD    HUNTER 

He  looked  at  Ross,  and  Ross,  returning  the 
look,  felt  his  heart  warm.  He  had  "  had  it  out " 
with  Lucky,  and  the  process  had  satisfied  both. 

By  a  wide  detour  and  an  easy  trail  the  two 
made  their  way  around  the  mountain  and  found 
Ross's  horse  and  pack.  All  the  way  Lucky  was 
examining  the  loam  for  signs  of  the  McKenzies. 
They  were  crunching  over  snow  and  ice  that  lay 
unmelted  on  a  trail  through  dense  underbrush 
when  Lucky,  who  was  in  advance,  turned  to  Ross 
and  motioned  downward.  There,  on  the  telltale 
snow,  were  the  shapes  of  iron  shoes. 

"  Three  horses/'  said  Lucky  in  a  low  tone. 

The  marks  were  so  fresh  that  Ross  fairly  felt  the 
presence  of  his  trailers. 


245 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  "  HA'NT  "  OF  THE  HOKN 

TOWAKD  the  end  of  the  valley  over  which 
Sheep's  Horn  towered,  Lucky  hobbled  the  boy's 
horse  and  turned  it  out  with  the  two  he  had 
brought,  and  then  led  the  way  to  the  cabin. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Ross,  "  where  the  McKenzies 
will  camp  to-night  ?  " 

"  Probably  not  in  the  open,"  responded  Lucky. 
"  There  are  shacks  all  about  here  in  the  moun- 
t'ins,  especially  to  the  southeast  nearer  Wind 
River." 

"  By  the  way,"  interrupted  Ross,  "  have  you 
seen  the  Monkey  ?  Did  he  come  this  way  ?  " 

Lucky  nodded.  "  He  come  along  here  hot 
footed  after  Dad.  Guess  Tod  hadn't  made  no 
mistake  in  his  directions  with  Nick.  Nick  didn't 
have  no  trouble  comin'  that  he  mentioned.  I 
hadn't  seen  Dad  at  all,  but  the  very  day  the  boy 
come  I  had  been  down  t'  the  end  of  this  valley 
and  climbed  t'  the  top  of  a  mount'in  there  and  I 
seen  a  smoke  comin'  out  of  a  shack  that  stands 
in  a  canon  about  five  miles  beyond  where  I 

246 


GOLD    HUNTER 

stopped.  As  'twas  the  only  sign  of  life  I'd  seen, 
I  sent  Nick  there.  He  hain't  come  back,  so  I 
suspect  that  my  surmise  was  right,  and  Dad's 
there." 

"  And  here  we  are  ! "  exclaimed  Ross  in  relief 
as  they  reached  Lucky's  temporary  home.  "  I'm 
hollow  clear  to  my  toes  1  I  shall  eat  like  a  pig." 

"  Wall,  there  hangs  a  good  part  of  a  pig  fer  ye 
t'  eat !  "  grinned  Lucky,  pointing  to  a  ham  which 
swung  from  the  roof  logs. 

The  shack  which  they  entered,  and  which  Fred 
Holzworth  had  so  recently  occupied,  was  larger 
than  the  cabins  at  Elk  Pass.  It  stood  on  a  shelf 
in  the  steep,  rocky  mountainside  backed  up  against 
a  huge  rectangular  rock  which  appeared  to  be 
driven  into  the  mountain  to  immeasurable  depths. 
The  flat  top  of  the  boulder  loomed  above  the  dirt- 
covered  roof  of  the  shack. 

Ross  had  followed  Lucky  through  a  low  door 
way  on  the  side  opposite  the  rock.  In  one  corner 
of  the  cabin,  propped  up  on  sections  of  pine  logs 
surmounted  by  flat  stones,  stood  an  ancient,  rusty, 
legless,  sheet-iron  stove.  Its  pipe  was  rusted  into 
holes  over  which  pieces  of  tin  had  been  wired. 
Beside  the  stove,  in  boxes  and  bags,  was  a  good 
supply  of  "  grub,"  not  only  of  Lucky's  furnishing, 
but  of  Holzworth's.  A  table  and  some  empty 
boxes  completed  the  housekeeping  outfit,  an  outfit 

247 


ROSS    GRANT 

that  had  become  familiar  to  Ross.  But  facing  the 
door  and  nailed  to  the  logs  against  the  boulder 
were  two  bunks,  one  of  which  excited  his  curi 
osity. 

"  Queer  looking  shake-down,  ain't  it  ?  "  grinned 
Lucky  pointing.  "  I'm  in  the  other  and  guess 
I'll  stay  there,  Doc,  as  you're  taller  'n  me  5n' 
younger.  Ye  ought  t'  do  better  at  climbin'." 

The  bunk  occupied  by  Lucky  was  old  and 
weather-beaten.  It  had  evidently  been  built  into 
a  corner  of  the  cabin  when  the  latter  was  first 
erected.  It  was  made  of  small  pine  boughs  nailed 
to  crosspieces  in  the  shape  of  a  box.  The  cross- 
pieces  were  nailed  to  the  rear  logs,  while  the  front 
of  the  box  bunk  was  supported  on  sections  of 
timber  about  two  feet  high.  The  box  was  filled 
with  pine  needles  and  long  mountain  grass  that 
made  a  comfortable  mattress  over  which  Lucky's 
blankets  were  spread. 

The  second  bunk  was,  however,  a  strange  and 
awkward  affair,  and  seemed  totally  unnecessary 
in  view  of  the  fact  that  Fred  Holzworth  had 
lived  there  alone.  It  stood  fully  four  feet  high 
and  filled  the  space  between  the  old  bunk  and  the 
corner  of  the  cabin.  It  was  built  out  of  pine 
boughs  and  the  stout  boards  of  half  a  dozen  boxes 
which  had  originally  contained  dynamite.  The 
bunk  itself  was  fashioned  from  these  boards.  The 

248 


GOLD    HUNTER 

supports  at  the  four  corners  were  also  boards. 
Holzworth  had  not  trusted  to  nails  at  the  back 
of  the  bed  to  hold  it  in  place  against  the  rear 
walls,  but,  in  addition,  had  dropped  a  board  leg  at 
each  corner. 

"How  tall  was  Fred?  "asked  Ross,  surveying 
the  awkward  bed  with  amusement. 

Lucky  cast  his  cap  into  his  own  bunk  and 
scratched  his  head.  "That's  the  funny  part. 
Fred  didn't  come  much  above  my  shoulder.  He 
might  as  well  'a*  built  a  roost  and  be  done 
with  it!" 

"  Well,  I  should  say  so  !  "  Ross  threw  his  own 
blanket  over  the  grass  and  pine  needles  that  also 
filled  the  new  bunk,  gave  a  leap  and  tumbling 
into  the  bunk,  stretched  out  his  legs  with  a  satis 
fied  grunt.  "See  here!  There's  a  good  foot  of 
space  between  my  feet  and  the  bottom  of  this 
bunk.  Holzworth  must  have  had  a  giant  in 
mind  when  he  framed  this." 

"  Looks  like  he  begun  t'  build  it  at  t'other  end 
and  then  kept  right  on  buildin'  till  he  reached  the 
end  logs.  Ye  see,  it's  nailed  t'  the  end  logs  as  well 
as  t'  the  back  ones." 

Ross  clasped  his  hands  beneath  his  head.  "  At 
any  rate,  it  makes  an  easy  bed.  After  my  long 
hike  I'm  glad  he  felt  moved  to  put  up  a  second 


one." 


249 


ROSS    GRANT 

Lucky  hung  his  coat  on  a  peg  beside  the  door 
way  and  lifted  down  the  ham.  "  Queer  notion  not 
t'  use  th'  old  un,  but,  then,  we're  all  queer  in 
spots.  Now,  Doc,  you  jest  keep  stretched  out  there 
while  I  rustle  the  grub." 

"  That  meets  my  ideas  exactly,"  Ross  assented. 

As  Lucky  cut  the  ham  and  selected  a  couple  of 
tin  cans  from  a  heap  in  the  corner  behind  the 
stove,  he  explained  the  shack  and  the  mountains 
of  the  region. 

"  This  'ere  cabin  is  the  oldest  'round  here,  and 
built  the  best.  Nobody  knows  who  done  it,  but 
it's  stood  ever  since  I  first  come  through  here,  and 
that's  twenty  year  back." 

"  These  logs,"  Ross  interrupted,  "  could  tell  a  lot 
of  interesting  stories  if  they  could  talk." 

"  That's  likely.  Men  by  the  dozen  have  dropped 
int*  this  shack,  unrolled  their  beds,  stayed  a  while 
'til  they  seen  these  mount'ins  didn't  yield  as  good 
ore  as  the  Wind  River  region  and  then  they'd 
move  on.  Always  they'd  move  on  if  they  was 
huntin'  gold.  I've  been  here  myself  and  went  on. 
As  I  said  t'  ye  before,  one  reason  that  made  me 
think  Fred  was  luny  when  he  sent  Hans  here  is 
that  this  valley  and  gold  ain't  acquainted  very 
clost.  There's  iron  here  a  plenty,  and  coal,  but 
the  gold  bearin'  quartz  don't  pan  out  well  enough 
t'  promise  much  even  if  there  should  come  a  way 

250 


GOLD    HUNTER 

t'  handle  the  ore,  like  a  branch  of  the  Burlington 
or  a  smelter  near  here.  Most  of  these  claims,"  he 
indicated  the  encircling  mountains,  "  are  proved 
up  fer  coal  and  iron  and  not  gold.  But  Sheep's 
Horn  ain't  staked.  It  don't  show  good  coal,  even." 

"  It's  queer  about  Holzworth  1 "  muttered  Ross 
drowsily. 

He  was  half  asleep,  lulled  by  the  welcome,  famil 
iar  sounds  that  he  had  sorely  missed  for  the  last 
two  days.  The  pine  knots  which  Lucky  was  feed 
ing  to  the  stove  blazed  and  crackled.  The  coffee 
pot  simmered  gently,  and  the  vegetable  soup  in  its 
can  on  the  back  of  the  stove  mingled  its  appetiz 
ing  odor  with  the  frying  ham,  while  Lucky's  big 
spoon  beat  the  flapjack  batter  with  a  soothing, 
rhythmical  sound.  It  was  not  until  supper  was 
ready,  the  fire  had  died  down,  and  Lucky  had  re 
moved  the  bubbling  dishes  from  the  stove,  that 
another  sound  made  itself  heard. 

It  was  a  slight  sound,  a  mere  breath  of  a  sound 
that  forced  itself  on  Ross's  attention,  not  by  its 
volume  but  by  its  persistency.  He  raised  his  head 
and  listened.  At  the  same  time  Lucky  stood  still, 
a  dish  poised  in  his  hands  while  he  watched  Ross 
with  eyes  shot  with  amusement. 

"  Hearin'  things,  Doc?  "  he  inquired  at  length. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Ross,  raising  himself  on 
his  elbow. 

251 


ROSS    GRANT 

"What's  what?" 

"  That  queer  little  noise."  He  sat  up  and  bent 
toward  the  door.  "It's  a — what?  Where  is  it? 
Don't  you  hear  it  ?  " 

Lucky  smiled.  "  Yes,  and  I've  been  waitin'  fer 
you  to.  Ye  ain't  superstitious,  are  ye,  Doc  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,"  returned  Ross  indignantly. 

Lucky  still  stood  motionless,  and  the  sound  per 
sisted,  minute,  regular,  baffling  as  to  its  origin. 

"  I  thought  you  wa'n't  superstitious,"  said  Lucky 
at  length  setting  the  dish  on  the  table.  "  Then 
that  sound  won't  hurt  ye.  It's  always  there.  It 
never  stops.  Nobody  knows  where  it  comes  from, 
ner  how,  but  it  keeps  a  heap  of  men  outside  this 
shack  who've  wanted  t'  stay  here.  They  come  in 
and  make  ready  t'  stay.  Get  a  meal,  mebbe,  and 
don't  take  any  notice  of  the  sound  while  they're 
on  the  move.  Then  they  turn  in,  and  everything 
gits  still — powerful  still,  Doc,  when  ye're  the  only 
man  within  forty  miles " 

"  Guess  I  can  testify  to  that  1 "  muttered  Ross 
with  a  shiver. 

"  Then,"  Lucky  continued,  "  that  sound  begins 
and  don't  stop.  It  gits  sorta  on  their  nerves." 

Ross  slid  out  of  the  high  bunk  and  began  in 
vestigating.  He  went  slowly  around  the  room, 
Lucky's  amused  gaze  following.  The  sound 
seemed  the  stronger  at  the  bunk  side  of  the  shack 

252 


GOLD    HUNTER 

and  on  the  side  directly  opposite  than  on  the  other 
two  sides.  But  it  was  most  audible  opposite  the 
bunks.  Here  Ross  placed  his  ear  close  to  the  logs, 
and,  half  bent,  moved  slowly  along  the  wall  past 
the  doorway  to  one  spot,  just  beyond  which  he 
stopped. 

"  Here  it  is,"  he  shouted,  "  right  here !  "  He 
laid  his  hand  on  the  central  log  in  the  wall. 

Lucky  smiled,  shook  his  head  and  pushed  a  box 
up  to  the  table.  "  How  can  it  come  from  there, 
Doc  ?  There's  nothin'  there  but  a  plain  pine  log. 
Better  come  t'  grub  while  it  smokes." 

But  Ross  was  not  yet  ready  to  eat.  He  laid  his 
ear  to  the  log  and  the  mysterious  sound  became  a 
muffled  throb  or  beat.  He  went  to  the  door  and 
looked  out.  There  was  nothing  on  that  side  of  the 
cabin  except  an  almost  sheer  drop  into  the  valley 
from  the  edge  of  the  rock  shelf.  He  went  slowly 
along  the  outer  wall  applying  his  ear  to  the  logs. 
He  could  hear  nothing.  He  returned  and  listened 
again  at  the  inner  wall.  Instantly  the  beat  became 
regular. 

Lucky  sat  at  the  table  watching  the  young  man 
curiously.  "  Wall,  Doc,  how  does  yer  spine  feel  ? 
Here's  about  the  p'int  where  half  the  fellers  who 
strike  this  trail  pack  their  outfit  and  move  on. 
I've  known  'em  not  t'  stop  goin'  till  they  reached 
Wind  River.  Depends  on  how  easy  their  con- 

253 


ROSS    GRANT 

sciences  is  and  how  they've  been  brung  up.  I 
never  had  much  bringin'  up,  and  that  noise  is  sure 
a  queer  thing,  but  I  sleep  all  the  better  nights  fer 
it.  It's  not  s'  lonesome  here.  The  first  time  I 
come  that  sound  was  waitin'  fer  me  and  it's  here 
now.  It  ain't  any  feebler  than  it  was  twenty  year 
ago." 

"  There  is  some  explanation  for  it,  of  course," 
declared  Ross,  deeply  puzzled. 

"  Find  it  if  ye  can,"  Lucky  challenged. 

"  Don't  eat  up  all  those  batter  cakes,"  Ross 
called  over  his  shoulder.  "  I'll  be  back  in  a 
moment." 

That  moment  he  spent  in  further  survey  of  the 
exterior  of  the  shack,  but  he  discovered  nothing 
that  threw  any  light  on  the  subject.  There  was 
only  the  steep  mountainside  with  the  cabin  cling 
ing  to  it  backed  up  firmly  against  the  huge  rock, 
as  sheltered  as  a  wren's  nest.  And  nowhere  out-of- 
doors  was  that  insistent  throb  repeated. 

"  Nothing  doing  I  "  he  announced  to  Lucky  as 
he  upended  a  box  beside  the  old  table  and  sitting 
precariously  astride  it,  fell  on  the  food.  "  I  haven't 
found  the  explanation  yet,  but  it  can  certainly  be 
explained.  Say  I "  as  a  sudden  idea  struck  him. 
"  D'ye  know  what  I  wish  ?  I  wish  that  the  Monkey 
was  here.  He's  got  hearers  as  sharp  as  both  of  ours 
put  together,  and  then  some.  He  has  trained  all 

254 


GOLD    HUNTER 

his  senses  so  well — wish  he  could  hear  that  noise. 
Did  he  stop  when  he  went  through  ?  " 

Lucky  shook  his  head.  "  Nope.  He  was  too 
busy  trailin'  Dad.  He  didn't  even  get  off  that 
spotted  bronc  of  hisn.  I  was  eatin'  dinner,  but  he 
had  had  his,  and  when  I  told  ;im  that  the  smoke 
from  that  shack  was  only  a  matter  of  ten  mile  or 
so  away  ye'd  have  had  t'  rope  'im  t'  keep  'im. 
But  hold  on,  Doc,  I  rec'lect  ye  spoke  of  a  bear. 
Have  ye  been  meetin'  up  with  one  ?  " 

Ross  laughed  ruefully.  "  Meeting  up  with  one? 
Well,  I  should  say  so  !  "  He  rubbed  his  head  ten 
derly.  "  Say,  Lucky,  does  my  hair  lie  down  from 
the  roots  out  ?  It's  been  standing  straight  up  with 
a  nerve  from  every  root  attached  somewhere  to  my 
back-bone  and  every  nerve  jumping,  while  not  a 
nerve  in  my  legs  would  work  I  Honest,  Lucky,  I 
was  the  most  frightened  fellow  in  Big  Horn  County 
two  nights  ago." 

When  Ross  had  finished  his  story  Lucky's  smile 
was  faint.  "  It's  a  good  thing  ye  got  yer  wits  about 
ye,  Doc.  That  bear  was  hungry,  probably,  fer 
candy  and  sweet  chocolate  and  other  things  that  it 
wipes  up  after  tourists  over  t'  the  Park,  and  when 
ye  didn't  cough  some  up  it  might  'a'  dumb  up 
there  and  bothered  ye  some." 

"Bothered  me!"  Ross  burst  out.  "That's  a 
mild  way  to  put  it." 

255 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Wall/'  said  Lucky,  with  a  grin,  "  it  might  V 
come  up  and  gone  through  yer  pockets  fer  the 
sweet  things  and " 

"And  you  would  have  come  along  in  a  few 
days,"  interrupted  Ross  grimly,  "  and  picked  up  all 
that  was  left  of  me — and  my  pockets  !  " 

Lucky  chuckled.  "  Wall,  Doc,  it  proved  ye  got 
a  head  on  ye.  "  T  think,"  admiringly,  "  of  yer 
backin'  the  old  feller  down  in  the  way  ye  did  !  " 

"  It  was  thinking  of  the  Monkey,  Lucky,  that 
gave  me  that  idea,"  Ross  confessed.  "  It  was  only 
a  couple  of  days  before  that  he  had  taught  me  to 
swing  on  the  limb  of  the  tree  in  front  of  the  Mc- 
Kenzies'  tent,  and  the  thought  of  that  seemed  to 
inspire  me  to  try  it  out  with  a  few  variations  on 
the  bear." 

Lucky  stirred  his  coffee  thoughtfully.  "  Speakin' 
of  the  Monkey  gives  me  an  idee,  too,"  he  observed. 
"  I  don't  see  nothin'  nigh  t'  hender  our  goin'  over 
first  thing  in  the  mornin'  and  seein'  if  Dad  and 
Nick  is  there,"  jerking  his  thumb  in  the  general 
direction  of  Wind  River.  Then  he  added  with  a 
chuckle,  "  It'll  keep  the  McKenzies  busy  follerin' 
us — give  'em  somethin'  t'  pass  away  the  time 
with." 

"  What  is  our  program,  anyway  ?  "  Ross  asked, 
pouring  soup  into  a  basin  from  the  hot  tin  can. 

Lucky  sagged  forward  against  the  table  and 

256 


GOLD    HUNTER 

shook  his  head.  "  I'd  laid  out  t'  fool  'round  here 
another  day  and  then  hike  back  t'  the  Pass.  Now 
I  dunno  what  we  better  do." 

Ross  moved  uneasily  and  added  what  was  in 
Lucky's  mind,  "  My  bringing  the  McKenzies  here 
changes  things." 

"  We'll  think  it  over,  Doc,"  returned  Lucky 
evasively.  "  I  don't  aim  t'  give  Sandy  any  ad 
vantage." 

"  Is  it  possible,"  began  Ross  after  a  pause,  "  that 
Holz worth  located  a  lead  and  didn't  stake  it — 
that  would  have  called  attention  to  it — but  de 
scribed  its  location  in  the  letter  ?  " 

Lucky  brought  his  open  hand  down  on  the 
table  with  a  bang.  "  Doc,  that's  exactly  the  trail 
I  begun  t'  foller  to-day.  That's  the  reason  I've 
been  'round  the  Horn  prospectin'  t'  see  if  I  could 
find  such  a  lead — but  I  hain't  struck  it !  " 

"  If  only  I  could  read  the  letter ! "  mourned 
Ross.  "  But  then,  Sandy  isn't  nearly  as  wise  as 
we  are.  That's  one  comfort !  " 

Lucky  chuckled.  "  Course  he  hain't.  He  can't 
be  sartin  what  we're  doin'  when  we  go  huntin' 
'round  aimless  like.  See?  He  don't  know  that 
we  can't  read  the  letter,  and  if  he  thinks  I  made 
off  with  it  and  yet  hain't  turned  nothin'  up  that's 
plain  to  his  sharp  eyes — Sandy's  goin'  t'  be  puz 
zled  about  what  we're  up  to." 

257 


ROSS    GRANT 

Ross  grinned  delightedly.  "  We've  still  got  the 
whip  hand,  haven't  we  ?  " 

All  this  conversation  had  been  carried  on  in  a 
mere  mutter  as  the  heads  of  the  two  almost  met 
over  the  narrow  table.  They  knew  that  Sandy's 
ears  were  sharp  and  Sandy's  sense  of  honor  was 
bounded  only  by  his  knowledge  of  the  law.  He 
might  be  listening  at  any  crack  between  the  logs, 
but  if  he  had  been,  no  word  of  the  murmured 
conversation  could  have  reached  him.  And  when 
Lucky  straightened  his  shoulders  and  spoke  in  a 
natural  tone  it  was  of  affairs  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Pass. 

As  Ross  was  sweetening  his  second  cup  of  coffee, 
he  heard  a  sound  from  below  the  shack,  then  a 
medley  of  sounds  out  of  which  emerged  a  stout 
bass  voice : 

"  Ho,  Lucky !     Ye  up  there  yet  ?  " 

"  It's  Dad !  "  cried  Ross  joyfully. 

With  a  bound  he  was  out  of  the  doorway  peer 
ing  over  the  edge  of  the  stone  shelf.  Below,  look 
ing  up,  were  Dad  and  Nicholas. 

"  We've  come  calling,"  the  latter  cried.  "  But 
if  you  had  not  been  at  home  we  couldn't  have  left 

cards.    Because  why  ?    Because  we Oh,  stars 

and  stripes  !     If  that  ain't  Doc  Tenderfoot !  " 

"  Of  course  it  is  !  "  shouted  Ross.  "  Get  your 
self  up  here  I  " 

258 


GOLD    HUNTER 

The  two  horsemen  picketed  their  mounts  on  the 
grassy  slope  below  and  then  followed  a  devious 
trail  that  wound  around  and  up  to  the  stone  shelf. 
The  boy  climbed  agilely,  the  man  slowly  and 
heavily. 

"Found  'im,  didn't  ye?"  was  Lucky's  greeting 
as  he  glanced  past  the  boy  to  Dad  when  the 
former's  head  appeared  above  the  shelf. 

"  He  was  all  there  and  at  dinner  when  I  reached 
him,"  responded  the  boy.  "  Guess  he  was  sorry  I 
came,  because  I  ate  up  everything  in  sight." 

Dad  pushed  the  cap  back  and  smiled,  a  pleasant 
smile,  slow  in  making  its  full  appearance.  He 
resembled  Lucky  in  some  ways,  Ross  thought. 
He  gave  the  same  impression  of  trustworthiness 
and  solidity.  He  looked  at  Nicholas  now  word 
lessly  but  with  unmistakable  affection. 

"  Holler  now,  ain't  ye,  Nick  ?  "  asked  Lucky. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  polite  to  say  I  am,  and  it 
wouldn't  be  truthful  to  say  I  ain't !  " 

Lucky  at  once  led  the  way  into  the  shack  and 
got  under  headway  among  his  supplies,  Ross  assist 
ing,  and,  in  the  end,  the  call  was  turned  into  a 
feast  of  canned  goods. 

"Ye  didn't  find  old  man  Clark,  I  take  it?" 
asked  Lucky  over  the  sizzling  bacon. 

Dad  threw  his  cap  into  a  bunk  and  rubbed  his 
thin,  dark  hair.  "  Nope,  I  didn't  find  him,  but  I 

259 


ROSS    GRANT 

have  run  into  all  his  belongings  up  there."  Dad 
sat  down  heavily  on  a  box  and  sagged  forward, 
his  elbows  on  his  knees.  "  There  was  an  envelope 
on  the  floor  directed  to  ?im,  so  I  knew  I  was  in 
the  right  place,  and  there's  all  his  supplies  and 
blankets.  Ye'd  think,  just  to  drop  in  the  shack, 
he  was  out  workin'  on  his  claims  between  meals, 
if  'twa'n't  for  the  horses.  There's  been  horses 
around,  but  they're  gone,  and  so  I  take  it  Clark 
has  gone  away  for  a  few  days.  His  claims  are 
near  there.  New  staked  claims  they  are,  and  there 
ain't  but  a  handful  of  dynamite  left,  so  I  take  it 
he's  gone  fer  some  sticks,  mebbe  t'  Meeteetse." 

"  And  you're  waitin'  for  him?" 

Dad  nodded  and  then  turned  uneasily  toward  the 
wall.  "  Same  old  sound's  here,  ain't  it,  Lucky?" 

At  this  Nicholas,  who  had  been  standing  in 
front  of  the  window,  turned.  Ross  saw  that  he 
was  listening.  "That  thumping  sound  is  the 
haunt  you  told  me  about,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Listen  I "  said  Lucky,  lifting  the  noisy  bacon 
from  the  stove. 

There  was  yet  too  much  stir  in  the  shack  for 
Ross  to  catch  the  mysterious  sound,  but  the 
younger  boy's  sharp  ears  did,  and  he  began  the 
same  investigation  that  Ross  had  indulged  in  an 
hour  earlier.  When  he  left  the  shack  intent  on 
tracing  the  cause,  Ross  went  with  him. 

260 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  You  see,"  said  Ross  after  they  had  gone  around 
the  cabin  and  had  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  rock, 
"  there's  no  place  outside  where  you  can  hear  that 
' haunt/  " 

The  younger  boy,  having  satisfied  himself  as  to 
the  truth  of  this,  sat  down  beside  Ross  on  the  edge 
of  the  rock  and  dangling  his  feet  over  the  roof  of 
the  shack  swapped  experiences  of  the  days  since 
they  had  parted  in  the  Valley  of  the  Pass, 
Nicholas  listening  with  envy  to  the  story  of  the 
bear. 

"  And  I've  never  had  such  an  exciting  set-to  as 
that,  and  I  have  lived  at  the  foot  of  these  mountains 
all  my  life,"  he  mourned.  "  I've  seen  wolves  in 
winter,  lots  of  'em,  but  I've  never  met  one." 

"  Gracious  !     Do  you  want  to  ?  "  cried  Ross. 

"  I  rather  meet  a  bear  the  way  you  did — without 
having  Spot  under  me — than  to  meet  the  King  of 
England,"  affirmed  Nicholas  solemnly  and  hon 
estly,  but  he  added  at  once,  "  Of  course,  I'd  want  a 
gun  handy." 

"  So  should  I,"  added  Ross  grimly,  "  and  a  tree 
at  my  elbow  that  would  hold  me  but  not  the 
bear !  " 

"  Ho,  boys  !  "  came  Lucky's  voice  from  below. 
"  Where  have  you  critters  gone  to  ?  " 

"  Here  1 "  shouted  Nicholas,  obeying  the  call  with 
alacrity. 

261 


ROSS    GRANT 

As  the  boys  entered  the  shack,  Dad  was  saying : 
"  No,  Lucky,  I  didn't  grub-stake  Fred  this  time ;  I 
jest  lent  'im  the  cash.  Ye  see  I'd  grub-staked  'im 
twice  before,  and  he  hadn't  turned  up  anything 
worth  follerin'.  So  last  summer  when  he  hiked 
down  t'  the  ranch,  he  asked  t'  borrow  a  thousand. 
Of  course  I  was  a  fool  to  lend  it,  but  Fred  told  a 
hard  luck  story,  and  I — wall,  I  give  in.  Ye 
know,"  apologetically,  "  how  them  things  go.  I 
had  it  in  the  bank,  and  Fred  said  he  hadn't  a 
plunk  that  he  could  lay  his  hands  on  then,  but 
that  he  sure  would  have  before  long,  and  so  I 
handed  it  over  t'  'im,  and  that's  the  last  I  seen  or 
heard  from  'im.  I  have  his  note,  but  what's  that 
good  fer  when  a  man  hasn't  nothin'  that  ye  can 
collect  from  ?  But  if  Fred  has  something  if  he 

did  make  a  stake "  Dad  stopped  and  gazed 

out  of  the  door,  his  forehead  puckered  into  a  frown. 

"  A  thousand  dollars,"  repeated  Lucky.  He 
scratched  his  head  slowly.  "  A  thousand  dollars 
loan  and  not  a  grub-stake.  Wall,  if  Fred  was  in 
his  right  mind  when  he  passed  in  his  checks — 
and  before — mebbe  that  ain't  so  bad  a  debt  as  ye 
think  fer.  I  can't  git  shet  of  the  idee  that  Fred 
fixed  things  right  in  this  letter  if  he  could  think 
straight.  Anyway,  with  a  note,  ye  have  yer  claim 
on  any  stake  that  he  made." 

Here  Lucky  turned  to  Ross.  "  Ye  see,  Doc, 

262 


GOLD   HUNTER 

I've  been  makin'  a  clean  breast  of  the  thing  t* 
Dad,  here.  There  ain't  no  reason  now  why  I 
shouldn't,  I'm  thinkin',  with  the  McKenzies  on 
the  spot.  He  might  as  well  know  how  things 
stand." 

Dad,  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  took  his  head  be 
tween  his  hands.  "  I'll  stick  around  here  as  long 
as  ye  stay,"  he  decided,  "  if  old  man  Clark  comes 
back  in  a  day  or  two  so  I  can  serve  'im  with  that 
subpoena.  If  he  don't  come  I've  got  to  get  after 


'im." 


Here  Dad  raised  his  head  abruptly.  "  Lucky, 
let's  have  a  look  at  that  letter." 

The  letter  was  produced,  and  each  looked  it  over 
in  turn,  but  it  threw  no  light  on  the  subject. 

"  If  Hans  is  as  honest  as  Fred  and  knew  of  the 

debt,  but "  here  Dad  drew  a  long  breath.  "  I 

never  lent  money  like  that  before,  but  I  believed 
in  Fred." 

At  this  point  Ross  made  a  discovery.  He  had 
opened  the  large  sheet  and  was  going  over  it  care 
fully.  He  had  found  before  that,  although  the 
letter  was  written  in  German  script,  the  names  of 
the  places  mapped  on  the  trail  were  in  English. 
With  his  finger  he  now  began  tracing  each  line  of 
the  script,  with  the  result  of  finding  that  wherever 
the  writer  had  occasion  to  use  any  of  the  names 
with  which  he  had  been  familiar  in  Wyoming,  he 

263 


ROSS    GRANT 

had  written  them  in  letters  which  Ross  could  read. 
Slowly  the  boy  made  his  way  down  the  page  of 
closely  written  characters  on  the  side  of  the  sheet 
opposite  the  mapped  trail.  At  the  very  end  he 
reached  a  paragraph  which  caused  him  to  give  an 
excited  exclamation. 

"  Here  you  are,  Mr.  Page,"  he  yelled.  "  Here 
you  are !  Your  name  is  all  I  can  make  out,  of 
course,  but  Holzworth  didn't  forget  you  !  " 

Eagerly  four  heads  bent  above  the  paragraph  in 
the  midst  of  which  Dad's  name  appeared  three 
times,  but  not  another  word  was  recognizable. 

"  But  there  it  is  !  "  cried  Lucky  the  optimist. 
"  There's  that  debt  of  yours  set  down.  Fred  was 
honest.  He's  squared  himself  with  ye.  Wait  and 
see  if  I  ain't  right !  "  Lucky  spoke  with  his  broad 
blunt  forefinger  pressed  on  the  last  paragraph. 

Dad  nodded  dubiously  and  turned  his  attention 
to  the  supper,  while  Lucky  restored  the  letter  to 
the  pocket  of  his  coat  that  hung  on  a  peg  against 
the  side  logs. 

From  that  time  the  talk  around  the  table  escaped 
Ross  who  nodded  beside  the  stove  too  sleepy  to 
keep  his  eyes  open.  As  soon  as  Dad  and  Nicholas 
had  departed  promising  to  return  the  following 
morning,  he  stumbled  yawning  to  his  feet. 

"  Lucky,  guess  I'll  turn  in,"  he  exclaimed,  draw 
ing  off  his  coat. 

264 


GOLD   HUNTER 

It  slipped  out  of  his  hands  as  he  turned  sleepily 
toward  the  peg,  and  fell  to  the  floor. 

As  he  raised  it  a  piece  of  quartz  rolled  out  of  a 
pocket.  Instantly  Lucky's  glance  lighted  on  it 
and  in  another  instant  Lucky's  hand  was  on  it, 
and  Lucky's  voice,  high  pitched  with  excitement, 
demanded  : 

"  Doc,  where'd  ye  come  by  this?  It's  free  gold, 
and  that  ain't  seen  often  in  these  mount'ins !  " 


265 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  MISSING  TREASURE 

IN  an  instant  Ross  was  wide  awake.  "  Gold, 
did  you  say  ?  "  he  cried  excitedly.  "  Free  gold  ?  " 

"  Free  gold,"  assented  Lucky  solemnly.  The 
hand  that  held  the  quartz  shook.  "  Didn't  ye 
know  that,  Doc  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  I  didn't !  I  thought  it  was  a 
pretty  good  specimen  of  '  fool's  gold/  best  I'd  ever 


seen.'3 


"  Ye  thought  it  looked  too  good  t'  be  true." 

"  Exactly.  I  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  Just 
slipped  it  into  my  pocket  when  I  was  trying  to 
find  a  way  to  get  out  of  this  place.  I  simply  gave 
it  enough  attention  to  see  that  it  looked — differ 
ent " 

Lucky  reached  the  doorway  in  a  long  stride, 
and,  drawing  a  small  microscope  from  his  pocket, 
examined  the  quartz,  his  hands  unsteady  from  ex 
citement.  "  Different !  "  he  exploded.  "  Wall,  I 
sh'  say  so  !  It's  a  fine  specimen,  Doc.  It  carries  a 
mighty  good  value  in  gold." 

Ross  looked  it  over  with  keen  interest.  It  was 
his  first  glimpse  of  a  species  of  quartz,  the  rare 

266 


GOLD    HUNTER 

sight  of  which  in  these  elevations  had  helped 
make  many  a  man  "  quartz  crazy."  The  trans 
parency  of  the  ore  was  interrupted  by  bands  and 
streaks  and  particles  of  dull  yellow.  Lucky  took 
out  his  knife,  and  chipped  off  one  of  the  yellow 
bands  that  lay  on  the  surface.  It  fell  on  Ross's 
outstretched  palm — the  lure  of  the  Rockies.  Over 
it  the  eyes  of  the  two  met  solemnly. 

"  Doc,  where'd  ye  find  this  ?  If  'twas  on  an 
unclaimed  bit  of  mountain  and  there's  a  good 
pocket  of  the  same  kind  where  this  was  broke 
off — why,  Doc,  ye've  met  up  with  a  good  thing." 

Ross's  eyes  shone  exultantly.  He  stepped  out 
side  the  shack,  and  pointed  at  the  ledge  barely 
visible  far  above  the  cabin.  "  I  found  it  up  there 
under  that  ledge." 

Lucky  stared  at  him  incredulously.  "  D'ye 
mean  the  Horn  ?  Under  th'  Horn  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  the  other  side.!' 

Lucky  passed  a  hand  over  his  eyes  as  though  to 
clear  away  the  mental  cobwebs.  "  Was — was  it 
jest  layin'  'round  loose?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Ross,  "  it  lay  on  the  ground. 
I — let's  see— I  was  crawling  out  from  under  a 

fallen    tree   and "     Here   the   boy    suddenly 

paused  and  then  burst  out,  "  Lucky,  have  you 
never  found  that  hole — why,  it  must  be  a  dis 
covery  hole  I " 

267 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  A  discovery  hole?  "  echoed  Lucky. 

"  Just  at  the  foot  of  the  ledge  on  the  other  side. 
I  was  inside  a  tangle  of  branches  and  fallen  trees 
and  found  a  pit.  It's  covered  up  with  tops  of 
spruce  and  underbrush.  I  nearly  fell  into  it  push 
ing  through  to  reach  the  ledge.  I  just  chanced  to 
notice  and  pick  up  this  piece  of  ore  on  my  way 
out." 

"  A  discovery  hole  and  this,"  Lucky  looked  down 
at  his  hand,  "  under  the  Horn — and  the  Horn's  at 

the   end  of  Fred's   trail.      Then "      His  low 

voice,  vibrant  with  agitation,  ceased  abruptly.    He 
stood  staring  at  Ross. 

The  boy  recognized  the  idea  which  had  stopped 
the  speech.  "  Of  course,"  he  said  quietly,  "  I 
have  no  claim  on  it.  It  must  be  a  part  of  Holz- 
worth's  find." 

Lucky  turned  from  him  with  relief  written  on 
every  feature  of  his  big  bearded  face.  But  all  the 
response  he  made  as  he  scanned  the  ledge  above 
was  the  rapid  question,  "  Was  there  any  more  such 
lookin'  ore  laying  loose  ?  " 

"  None  that  I  noticed.  But,  you  see,  I  WAS  look 
ing  for  other  things  beside  gold  or  mining-claims 
then.  I  was  looking  for  a  way  out  for  myself,  not 
for  Hans." 

"  Inside  that  mess  of  brush  and  trees,  ye  say  the 
hole  is  ?  "  asked  Lucky. 

268 


GOLD  HUNTER 

"  Yes.  The  only  way  I  could  get  in  was  to 
crawl  under  a  fallen  tree." 

"  And  was  there  any  sign  of  a  claim  ?  "  asked 
Lucky  eagerly.  "  No  stake  ner  paper  sign  up  ner 
nothin'  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  saw." 

Lucky  drew  a  quick  breath.  "  An1  there  I've 
hiked  past  that  tangle  a  dozen  times  I "  he  mut 
tered.  "  I've  hammered  stones  jest  outside  of  it 
and  went  'round  it — but  I  never  pushed  inside." 

"  It  was  the  chance  of  finding  a  way  to  the  out 
look  on  top  that  led  me  inside,"  said  Ross,  but 
Lucky  was  not  listening. 

"  Doc,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "  ye're  all  in,  with  yer 
long  hike  ;  but  there's  a  good  hour  of  light  yet, 
and  I'm  goin'  up  t'  the  ledge,  hopin'  the  McKenzies 
ain't  there  before  me.  You  stay  here  and  rest." 

"  Not  much  !  "  cried  Ross.  He  hastened  into 
the  shack  and  swinging  an  axe  to  his  shoulder, 
stood  ready  for  action. 

But  Lucky,  kicking  a  box  up  beside  the  table, 
motioned  to  it.  "  Here,  Doc,  ye're  handier  with  a 
pencil  than  me.  Set  down  here  and  write  three  ;r 
four  declarations  of  discovery  and  possession. 
Only  one's  necessary,  but  we  ain't  aimin'  t'  stop  at 
what's  jest  necessary.  I  want  th'  McKenzies  t' 
read  'em  all  'round  the  claim." 

Rapidly  Ross  did  as  he  was  bidden.  Lucky 

269 


ROSS    GRANT 

stood  over  him,  dictating,  the  suppressed  excite 
ment  in  his  voice  and  manner  causing  the  boy's 
pencil  to  wabble  and  his  hand  to  shake. 

"  Now,"  he  exclaimed,  springing  up  and  shoving 
the  papers  into  Lucky's  hand,  "  are  we  ready  ?  " 

He  seized  the  axe  again,  and  hurried  out  of  the 
shack  without  giving  his  coat  a  thought.  Lucky 
was  also  in  his  shirt  sleeves.  Neither  thought  of 
the  chill  which  followed  the  sundown  in  those 
high  altitudes,  so  anxious  were  they  to  reach  the 
ledge  in  advance  of  the  McKenzies,  provided  the 
brothers  had  not  yet  become  interested  in  the  sur 
roundings  of  the  huge  rock. 

"  You  see  there  are  trees  all  around  the  hole," 
Ross  explained  breathlessly.  "  From  half-way 
down  the  side  they  could  not  have  seen  me  in  the 
thicket." 

"  They  could  trail  ye,"  responded  Lucky  briefly. 

His  brown  flannel  shirt,  pulled  up  loosely  at  the 
belt,  flopped  in  the  rising  breeze.  His  face  was  set 
and  stern  at  the  thought  of  possible  marauders. 
He  led  silently  and  rapidly,  going  straight  up  the 
almost  perpendicular  side  of  Sheep's  Horn  until 
they  reached  the  foot  of  the  ledge.  Then,  still 
silent,  they  circled  its  foot,  until  they  arrived  at 
the  tops  of  the  fallen  trees. 

"  This  screens  the  hole,"  whispered  Ross. 

Lucky  surveyed  the  mass,  gloomy  under  the 

270 


GOLD    HUNTER 

overhanging  trees.  "  I  don't  wonder  that  I  never 
suspicioned  what  this  place  held." 

Ross  led  the  way  to  the  beginning  of  the  trail 
and  the  felled  tree.  "  Here's  where  I  broke 
through." 

"  Wait,"  breathed  Lucky.  They  spoke  beneath 
their  breath,  not  knowing  where  the  McKenzies 
might  be. 

Lucky  stooped,  and  examined  the  trail.  Other 
footprints  besides  Ross's  appeared.  He  traced  them 
to  the  edge  of  the  thicket,  and  found  that  here 
they  veered  to  the  left  and  followed  Ross's  as  his 
led  around  the  rock. 

"They  didn't  go  in,"  whispered  Lucky. 
"  Lookee  here.  They  knew  you  was  lost,  and  jest 
aimed  t'  keep  ye  in  sight  without  trailin'  yer  every 
step.  That's  fortunate." 

When  Lucky  was  well  into  the  tangle  of  hem 
lock,  following  Ross  on  hands  and  knees,  he 
stopped  with  an  exclamation.  "  Ha  !  The  rock 
here  is  all  turned  up  on  aidge,  ain't  it,  Doc  ?  " 

"  That's  the  only  thing  I  noticed  about  it  in 
here,"  whispered  Ross.  "  I  had  to  climb  over  too 
much  of  it  not  to  notice  that." 

Lucky  brought  his  eyes  close  to  the  stone,  the 
shadow  of  the  thicket  making  seeing  difficult. 
"  This  is  queer,  Doc,  queer  enough.  These  strata 
poke  up  here  like  a  finger  through  this  mount'in." 

271 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Pointing  the  way  to  Holzworth's  find/' 
breathed  Ross,  pushing  forward. 

"  Not  jest  pointin'  the  way  but  bringin'  it,"  in 
sisted  Lucky,  "  fer  this  is  different  rock.  There 
ain't  no  more  like  this  'round  the  Horn." 

"  Here,"  announced  Ross,  "  is  the  hole.", 

He  allowed  the  excited  Lucky  to  drop  into  the 
pit  first.  He  followed,  but  could  only  stand  in 
silence  and  watch  the  other  eagerly  examining 
the  place,  its  rough  floor,  its  sides  and,  finally,  the 
dump  of  refuse  at  one  side.  On  Lucky's  face  Ross 
read  the  signs  of  disappointment.  He  found  no 
more  free  gold,  nor  did  the  refuse  yield  more  rich 
ore.  But  the  fact  that  this  refuse-dump  was  small 
out  of  all  proportion  to  the  hole  escaped  Ross's  at 
tention.  It  did  not  escape  Lucky's.  Around  and 
about  among  the  felled  trees  he  poked  and  pushed 
and  looked.  At  last  with  a  sigh  he  came  back  to 
the  trail,  followed  by  the  boy. 

'"  It  ain't  here,"  he  muttered  aloud. 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Ross. 

His  companion  did  not  hear.  He  was  standing 
by  a  smooth,  straight  tree  beside  the  trail  at  the 
edge  of  the  thicket.  Producing  the  declaration 
of  possession  and  discovery,  he  nailed  it  to  the 
bark.  Then,  going  to  the  edge  of  the  woods,  he 
studied  the  side  of  the  mountain. 

"  I  guess,"  he  whispered,  "  that  the  rock  inside 

272 


HE    NAILED    IT    TO    THE    EARK 


GOLD    HUNTER 

there/'  jerking  his  thumb  back  toward  the  dis 
covery  hole,  "  runs  slantwise  off  here  northwest, 
but  it  runs  deep." 

"  The  strata  seem  to  me  to  go  straight  down  to 
China/'  exclaimed  Ross,  "  but  what  I  don't  know 
about  geology  would  fill  books  I  " 

"  Same  here,"  said  Lucky  absently,  "  but  I  do 
aim  t'  know  a  few  things  about  gold  minin'  and 
the  lay  of  the  quartz  that  holds  the  metal.  I 
don't  know  nothin'  about  books." 

Ross  smiled.  "  Strikes  me  that  knowing  things 
comes  before  putting  'em  in  books,"  he  muttered, 
"  and  you  do  seem  to  know  a  few  things  worth 
while  !  " 

"  Only  a  few,"  said  Lucky  decidedly.  Then  he 
changed  the  subject  abruptly. 

"  Doc,  we'll  take  possession  of  this  side  and  go 
only  about  a  hundred  feet  over  on  t'other  side. 
That'll  give  Hans  as  much  of  a  bite  as  he  can 
swaller,  and  I  guess  a  bit  more." 

"  Holzworth  did  exactly  as  you  suspected  he 
would  about  not  visibly  claiming  his  discovery, 
didn't  he  ?  " 

Lucky  nodded.  "  Guess  his  head  was  level  after 
all.  Ye  see,  if  he  had  staked  it  off  and  laid  claim 
t'  it,  and  then  left  without  doin'  all  of  the  first 
year's  work  on  it,  and  not  knowin'  when  his 
brother  could  come,  why,  any  one,  naturally 

273 


ROSS    GRANT 

curious,  and  most  prospectors  is — that's  their 
business — wall,  as  I  was  goin'  t'  say,  any  pros 
pector  could  hike  along  and  jump  the  claim. 

"  Now,"  Lucky  continued,  "ye  better  take  these 
papers  and  the  hammer,  and  pace  off  three  hun 
dred  feet  straight  out  here  t'  the  right.  Then  go 
down  the  mountain  fourteen  hundred  paces  and 
put  another  paper  at  that  corner.  Then  up  the 
canon  six  hundred  feet,  and  another  paper  there. 
Then,  when  we  go  back,  we'll  attend  t'  the  hun 
dred  feet  on  t'other  side.  We'll  see  if  the  Mc- 
Kenzies  will  hold  Hans'  claim  or  if  we  will ! 
We'll  jest  pretend  at  present  that  we're  Hans' 
grub-staked  pards.  In  the  mornin'  I'll  come  up 
and  begin  t'  sink  that  hole  a  little  deeper." 

With  hammer  and  papers  Ross  set  off  jubilantly 
down  the  mountainside  through  the  fast  falling 
darkness,  while  above  him  Lucky  swung  his  axe, 
making  an  opening  through  the  tops  of  the  felled 
trees.  The  sound  of  the  blows  echoed  loudly 
against  the  mountainside  opposite. 

"  Whew  !  "  muttered  Ross.  "  If  the  McKenzies 
are  not  deaf,  they  can  hear  that,  no  matter  where 
they  have  camped." 

At  the  foot  of  the  mountain  he  stopped,  and, 
notching  a  pine,  nailed  Hans'  name  above  the 
notch.  Then  he  started  up  the  narrow  gorge 
down  which  he  had  so  recently  ridden.  Here 

274 


GOLD    HUNTER 

the  trees  turned  the  twilight  again  to  darkness, 
and  he  advanced  slowly,  counting  his  paces.  A 
hundred  feet  or  so  from  the  marked  tree  he 
paused,  realizing  that  he  had  lost  count.  Listen 
ing  to  the  blows  from  the  axe,  he  retraced  his 
steps  until,  within  a  few  feet  of  the  tree,  he  came 
to  a  sudden  stop,  halted  by  low  voices. 

He  crouched  behind  a  rock,  and  listened.  He 
heard  the  sound  of  a  match  on  the  tree  trunk  and 
then  Sandy's  voice  reading  in  a  mumble  the  notice 
which  Wyoming  law  requires  to  be  affixed  to  a 
stake  or  other  permanent  post  near  the  vein  of 
ore  that  the  prospector  wishes  to  take  possession 
of  to  the  extent  of  one  or  more  claims. 

" '  Discovered  of  June  by  Ross 

Grant possession  of in  name  of  and 

for  Hans  Holzworth.'  " 

"  Who  signs  it  ?  "  asked  Waymart  in  an  excited 
tone. 

"  Lucky,  of  course,"  growled  Sandy,  "  with  Doc 
as  witness.  Now,  what  does  he  find  here  on  old 
Sheep's  Horn  ?  And  what  did  Fred  find  ?  It's  a 
mistake.  There  ain't  nothin'  here  to  strike  rich. 
Men  that  knowed  a  heap  more  about  ore  than 
Fred  Holzworth  have  been  comin'  and  goin'  these 
twenty-five  years,  and  all  of  'em  have  passed  by 
the  Sheep's  Horn." 

"  But  Lucky's  staked  it,"  insisted  Waymart ; 

275 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  and  ye  git  up  early  and  stay  awake  late  t'  git 
ahead  of  Lucky  Frace.  If  he's  staked  out  this 
mount'in,  there's  good  ore  here  som'ers." 

"Aw,  go  'long!"  scoffed  Sandy.  "  Lucky's 
doin'  this  jest  to  fool  Doc.  Didn't  do  it  here  till 
Doc  got  here,  ye  notice.  Ye  jest  wait,  Mart,  till  I 
git  my  hands  on " 

The  rest  of  the  sentence  was  lost  on  Ross.  He 
remained  in  his  retreat  until  the  brothers  had 
passed  him,  grinning  jubilantly  at  the  slur  cast  by 
Sandy.  Lucky  doing  this  to  fool  him,  indeed  I 
Then  Sandy  did  actually  believe  that  Lucky  was 
trying  to  steal  the  gold.  Impulsively,  without 
stopping  to  weigh  the  matter,  but  feeling  that  his 
exultation  over  finding  the  Holzworth  claim  must 
find  some  outlet,  he  arose  and  called  : 

"  Hello,  there,  McKenzies  !  " 

Two  dim  figures  halted.  One  hesitated,  and 
came  back  to  the  rock.  It  was  Sandy.  "  Wall, 
Doc  ! "  cried  Sandy  with  the  hearty  friendliness 
that  he  could  so  easily  assume.  "  What's  ye  doin' 
here,  moonin'  all  by  yerself?" 

Ross  sat  down  jauntily  on  the  rock.  "  I'm  not 
by  myself,"  he  returned.  "  Lucky  Frace  is  up  at 
the  ledge." 

"  That  so  ?  "  imperturbably.  "  Wall,  now,  don't 
Lucky  find  hours  enough  in  daylight  t'  chop  wood 
in?" 

276 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Ross  laughed,  and  answered  impulsively  with 
boyish  bravado,  "  Well,  this  particular  kind  of 
wood  is  worth  chopping  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or 
night  that  you  run  across  it." 

"  Ah !  "  Sandy's  tone  evinced  great  interest, 
also  enlightenment.  "  What  kind  of  wood  ?  " 

Waymart  turned  his  head  alertly. 

Ross  bit  his  lips  in  vexation,  repenting  his  im 
pulsiveness  too  late.  " '  There's  no  fool  like  a  young 
fool/  "  he  told  himself  angrily. 

Sandy  repeated  his  question. 

"  Oh,  the  only  kind  there  is  around  here,'7  the 
boy  said  lamely,  and  hastened  to  add,  "  Where  are 
you  camping?" 

To  his  relief  Sandy  did  not  follow  the  subject  of 
Lucky's  chopping.  He  merely  answered  the  ques 
tion,  and  joined  Waymart,  and  both  men  crunched 
along  the  gravelly  soil,  passing  out  of  sight  and 
hearing  in  a  few  moments. 

Then  Ross  hastened  to  count  his  paces  and  nail 
the  possession-claim  to  another  tree  at  the  corner. 
"  If  only  I'd  kept  my  mouth  shut  in  the  first 
place  !  "  he  kept  repeating,  vaguely  uneasy.  "  I 
know  that  Sandy's  suspicions  are  aroused.  I 
wonder  what  Lucky  will  say  ?  " 

He  turned  and  looked  at  the  side  of  the  opposite 
mountain  for  the  McKenzies'  camp.  He  could  see 
nothing  from  his  position  among  the  trees.  Walk- 

277 


ROSS    GRANT 

ing  forward  briskly  for  a  few  moments,  he  came  to 
an  open  space  in  the  canon ;  and  there,  securely 
picketed,  were  the  three  horses.  On  the  first  slope 
beyond  was  a  dying  fire,  but  the  campers  were  not 
in  sight.  Half  an  hour  later  he  had  joined  Lucky 
and  confessed  to  his  interview  with  the  trailers. 

Lucky  leaned  on  his  axe,  and  peered  into  the 
opening  it  had  made  in  the  jungle  of  tree  tops. 
He  made  no  comment  on  Ross's  course. 

"  I  think,"  Ross  burst  out  finally,  "  that  you 
wish  I'd  kept  still  and  stayed  behind  my  rock, 
don't  you?" 

Lucky  picked  up  some  boughs  and  tossed  them 
aside.  "  Wall,  Doc,"  he  returned  slowly,  "  if  they 
didn't  know  that  we  knew  they  was  here,  they 
wouldn't  have  s'  much  t'  cover  up,  and  we  might 
not  have  s'  much  t'  find  out." 

Ross  looked  puzzled.  "  But  what  is  there  now 
to  find  out  or  cover  up?  "  he  asked.  "  We  have 
found  Fred  Holzworth's  claim  and  taken  possession 
in  Hans'  name,  and  you  will  begin  to-morrow  to 
make  good  the  possession.  What's  left?" 

Lucky  lowered  his  voice  cautiously.  "  There's 
everything  left,  Doc,  that  the  McKerizies  want." 

"  I  don't  understand "  began  the  boy. 

For  answer  Lucky  led  the  way  into  the  hole 
again.  Ross  stumbled  after.  Lighting  a  match, 
Lucky  held  it  up  to  the  refuse-heap  at  the  right  of 

278 


GOLD   HUNTER 

the  hole.  "  Doc,  ye  can  see — can't  ye  ? — that  most 
of  the  ore  taken  out  of  this  hole  has  been  snaked 
away  and  cached  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Ross,  "  now  I  understand."  Words 
failed  him.  He  plunged  his  hands  into  his  pock 
ets,  and  whistled  again.  "  Holzworth  pulled  out 
all  the  ore  with  the  free  gold  in  it,  and  hid  it 
somewhere,"  he  whispered. 

Lucky  nodded  solemnly.  "  That's  it.  He  run 
on  a  pocket  of  the  yeller.  That  pocket  has  pinched 
out  right  here.  We've  staked  the  mount'inside 
fer  Hans,  but  mebbe  he'll  never  git  a  plunk's  worth 
more  of  gold  out  of  it.  But  som'ers  around  Fred 
has  the  gold  cached." 

"  Then  we  must  find  it  before  the  McKenzies 
do  !  "  muttered  Ross  excitedly. 

Lucky  led  the  way  out.  He  did  not  comment  on 
the  assertion  at  once.  "  We'll  go  home  now,"  he 
said,  shivering  as  a  piercing  wind  struck  him. 
"  Have  ye  got  one  of  them  papers  left  ?  " 

Ross  produced  it,  and  they  groped  their  way 
down  the  other  side  of  the  mountain,  stuck  the 
notice  temporarily  on  the  branch  of  a  sage-brush, 
and  then  sought  the  dark,  cold  shack.  The  sky 
was  clear  and  pierced  by  stars  increasing  in 
brilliancy  as  the  early  darkness  deepened.  Among 
the  peaks  the  wind  was  rising  to  a  gale,  the  skirts 
of  which  hit  their  faces.  It  did  not  visit  the 

279 


ROSS    GRANT 

eafion  in  full  force  at  once.  It  made  brief  sorties 
at  first,  retreating  back  to  the  peaks,  leaving  every 
branch  a-quiver  with  the  memory  of  its  departure 
and  anticipation  of  its  early  return.  But  with  its 
descent  began  a  measureless,  mournful  roar  which 
swept  the  wooded  sides  of  the  mountains  and  died 
away  in  little  puffs  among  the  gently  waving  hem 
locks  above  the  cabin. 

"  Whew  !  "  exclaimed  Ross  as  he  entered  the 
shack,  "  I've  just  found  out  that  I'm  cold  as  an 
iceberg  I  A  cup  of  hot  coffee  wouldn't  be  scorned 


now." 


Lucky  lighted  a  candle.  In  a  few  moments  a 
pine  chunk  fire  was  roaring  in  the  stove,  and  a 
fresh  pot  of  coffee  simmering. 

Ross  placed  the  hingeless  door  in  place,  and 
propped  it  against  the  sudden  gusts  of  wind. 
Then,  taking  one  of  the  blankets  from  his  bunk, 
he  hung  it  over  the  glassless  window. 

"  There  I  "  he  ejaculated  with  satisfaction.  "  I 
believe  in  fresh  air ;  but  there  can  be  too  much  of 
it,  I've  found  out  here." 

He  sat  down  beside  the  table,  and  took  up  the 
piece  of  ore  again.  The  flickering  rays  from  the 
candle  cast  only  a  dull  light  on  the  yellow  metal. 
Beside  the  stove  two  coats  swayed,  sucked  in  and 
out  against  the  unchinked  logs,  their  lengths 
throwing  grotesque  shadows  across  the  hard  dirt 

280 


GOLD    HUNTER 

floor  as  the  draught  threw  them  outward.  The 
fire  roared  and  crackled,  and  the  yawning  seams 
in  the  stove  emitted  a  dancing  brilliancy. 

Ross  rested  both  elbows  on  the  table,  leaning 
against  it  in  a  lazy,  warm  content,  and  watched 
Lucky  until  the  coffee  boiled.  Then  he  arose 
with  alacrity,  and  filled  the  cups.  But  not  until 
the  two  sat  opposite  each  other  over  the  steaming 
cups  was  the  subject  of  the  hiding  place  of  the  free 
gold  reopened.  They  sat  a  long  time  or,  rather, 
Lucky  talked  almost  in  a  whisper  at  intervals,  and 
Ross  listened. 

"  I've  combed  these  here  mountains  with  a  fine- 
tooth  comb  fer  four  days,"  he  mused,  "  and  ain't 
come  on  hide  ner  hair  of  a  cache.  But/'  with  a 
shrug  of  his  powerful  shoulders,  "  neither  did  I 
run  on  that  discovery  hole.  Wall,  if  Fred  was  as 
foxy  with  his  cache  as  with  that  hole,  I  guess  it 
can  wait  safe  till  Hans  gits  a  glass  over  his  eye 
and  can  read  that  letter."  Lucky  jerked  his 
thumb  behind  him  at  his  coat.  "  That'll  tell,  of 


course." 


"  If  Fred  was  weak,"  said  Ross  thoughtfully, 
"  and  sick,  he  couldn't  carry  quartz  very  far,  could 
he  ?  You  said,  I  believe,  that  he  had  no  horse 
here." 

Lucky  nodded  gravely.  A  puzzled  expression 
overcast  his  face.  "  Doc,  ye're  right.  Fred  was 

281 


ROSS    GRANT 

weak  at  the  best  when  he  found  that  pocket,  and  he 

couldn't  'a'  took  the  ore  fur.    Now,  I  wonder " 

Lucky's  voice  trailed  away  into  silence,  and  the 
wind  went  shrieking  past  the  shack,  maFng  the 
candle  flare,  causing  the  pine  knots  in  the  stove 
to  roar,  and  swinging  the  coats  out  after  their 
wavering  shadows. 

Finally  he  arose,  and  wandered  aimlessly  around 
the  room.  "  Ye  know,  the  law  is,"  he  began 
again,  "  that  ye  can  hold  a  claim  fer  thirty  days 
without  doin'  work  on  it ;  and  I  guess  I  best  put 
in  a  few  of  that  thirty  first  a-lookin'  Sheep's  Horn 
over  again  sharp  fer  that  ore." 

"  Isn't  there  another  tangle  deep  enough  to  hide 
it?  "  asked  Ross. 

"  I  hain't  come  on  any  such,"  answered  Lucky. 

"  What  about  a  hole  big  enough  and  cov 
ered  ?  " 

"  There'd  be  a  pile  of  the  stuff  took  out  of  the 
hole  to  give  it  away.  Besides,  I  don't  believe  Fred 
was  strong  enough  t'  dig  such  a  hole  after  all  the 
work  he  done  under  the  Horn." 

"  It's  got  to  be  somewhere  hereabouts,"  insisted 
Ross  again,  "  because  he  couldn't  have  carried  it 
far." 

Lucky  returned  no  answer,  but  sitting  down 
beside  the  stove  scratched  his  head,  always  a  sign 
of  perplexity  with  him. 

282 


GOLD   HUNTER 

"  How  do  you  believe  the  pocket  of  ore  panned 
out  ?  "  asked  Ross. 

"  I've  been  askin'  myself  that  very  thing,"  re 
turned  Luoky.  "  By  what  Fred  said  I  sh'  think 
not  much  as  we  measure  thousands  in  plunks. 
He  said  it  would  be  a  starter  fer  Hans — and  then 
there's  Dad  t'  share  it." 

Lucky  reached  for  the  ore  on  the  table  and 
looked  at  it  carefully.  "  Doc,  if  I  was  guessin'  I 
should  guess  this :  that  the  pocket  Fred  run  ont* 
was  small,  but  the  ore  carried  a  mighty  high 
assay.  This  piece  is  rich.  A  ton  of  such  quartz 
would  run  up  int' — wall,  from  five  V  seven  thou 
sand,  som'ers." 

"  From  five  to  seven  thousand  dollars/7  mut 
tered  Ross. 

He  sat  with  his  elbows  on  the  table  and  his 
eyes  narrowed  thoughtfully.  He  felt  a  strange 
stir  within,  an  awakening  of  the  spirit  of  the 
mountains,  the  spirit  of  discovery  and  conquest 
and  possession.  Then  he  arose,  shaking  his  head 
in  a  denial  of  that  awakening,  but  he  spoke  reluc 
tantly  : 

"  And  I  suppose  that  it's  up  to  me  to  take  that 
letter  and  get  back  to  the  Pass,  and  take  Hans 
down  to  Cody.  And  then,"  he  spoke  still  more 
reluctantly,  "  I  suppose  I  must  make  tracks  for 
Pennsylvania."  The  boy  felt  just  then  that  it 

283 


ROSS    GRANT 

would  be  far  more  interesting  to  stay  with  Lucky 
"  a-lookin'  sharp  I  "  His  view-point  had  tempo 
rarily  changed  since  Lucky  had  overtaken  the 
Meeteetse  stage  only  a  few  days  before.  "  Now, 
are  you  sure,"  he  demanded,  "  that  you  can  send 
me  back  so  I  won't  lose  my  way  ?  " 

Lucky  assented.  "  The  mistake  that  Tod  made 
was  at  the  canon  that  ye  struck  after  comin'  over 
from  the  Valley  of  the  Willows.  Tod  clean  forgot 
that  crick.  He  jest  skipped  over  that,  and  laid 
the  trail  along  the  next  one.  Of  course  ye  took 
the  one  nighest  and  so  got  mixed  up." 

"  It  was  fortunate  for  me,"  declared  Ross  with 
conviction,  "  that  I  got  still  further  mixed  up 
to-day,  and  crossed  and  recrossed  trails  and  creeks 
until  I  fell  against  Sheep's  Horn ! " 

"  Ye  bet  it  was  !  "  responded  Lucky  warmly. 

It  was  late  that  night  before  they  turned  in. 
The  fire  had  burned  out  before  Lucky  was  snoring 
in  his  bunk.  Ross  lay  awake,  wondering  how  he 
could  explain  to  Hans  what  had  been  done  to 
safeguard  his  interests.  Finally  a  solution  to  his 
difficulties  presented  itself. 

"  Nothing  easier,"  he  muttered  aloud,  sitting  up 
in  his  bunk.  Near  Cody  there  was  a  collection 
of  German  "  nesters  "  or  small  farmers,  along  the 
banks  of  the  "  Stinking  Water."  They  could  speak 
English  as  well  as  their  native  tongue.  He  would 

284 


GOLD    HUNTER 

take  Hans  to  them  on  the  way  to  the  oculist  and 
have  all  he  wished  to  say  interpreted.  With  this 
thought  in  mind  he  fell  asleep. 

Between  three  and  four,  in  the  cold  gray  dawn 
of  the  morning,  he  awakened.  The  wind  had 
fallen.  Not  a  bird  chirped.  The  vast  mountains 
engulfed  the  shack  in  silence,  but  it  was  a  silence 
broken  within  the  cabin  by  a  small,  persistent 
sound.  Ross  arose  on  his  elbow  and  listened. 
The  "  ha'nt "  of  the  place  was  busy,  always  busy. 
With  the  fire  roaring  and  the  wind  blowing,  the 
tiny,  persistent  sound  had  escaped  his  notice. 
Now  it  encroached,  as  steady  and  irritating  as 
the  nibbling  of  a  mouse.  Ross  rolled  over  rest 
lessly,  unable  to  shut  it  out  or  forget  it.  Finally 
he  arose  impatiently,  and,  groping  his  way  to  the 
other  side  of  the  shack,  listened  again  at  the  logs 
beside  the  door. 

"  It's  as  though  the  logs  were  hollow  here,"  he 
thought,  "  and  a  loud  nickel  clock  were  ticking ; 
yet  it  doesn't  sound  exactly  like  a  clock.  It's  a 
muffled,  mixed-up  beat." 

Leaning  over  too  far  in  his  investigation,  he  lost 
his  balance,  and  pitched  forward,  taking  with  him 
the  coats  and  the  peg  on  which  they  were  hung. 
Behind  him,  Lucky's  snores  ceased  a  moment 
while  the  sleeper  moved  uneasily.  Then  he  began 
to  sleep  more  loudly  than  before,  while  Ross  gath- 

285 


ROSS    GRANT 

ered  himself  up  shivering.  He  picked  up  his 
coat,  and  laid  it  across  a  box  that  stood  in  his 
way.  As  he  stooped  for  Lucky's  a  sudden  thought 
caused  him  to  run  his  hands  over  it  until  they 
reached  the  inside  pocket.  Dropping  the  garment 
hastily  on  the  floor,  he  stepped  over  it,  struck  a 
match,  and  glanced  about  the  floor. 

"I'm  sure,"  he  thought,  "  that  Lucky " 

The  match  fell  blazing  to  the  floor.  "  Jerusalem  !  " 
he  exclaimed  aloud,  "  I  remember  now.  We  did 
leave  it — and  I  never  thought — Lucky,  Lucky, 
wake  up." 

The  man  turned,  and  opened  his  eyes  just  as 
Ross  struck  another  match  and  lighted  the  candle. 
He  sat  up.  "  What  is  it,  Doc  ?  " 

"The  letter,"  gasped  Ross;  "where  did  you 
leave  the  letter  when  we  went  up  to  the  Horn?" 


286 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ON  THE  TRAIL  OF  THE  MCKENZIES 

"  WHAT  letter  ?  "  asked  Lucky  in  a  dazed  voice. 

He  raised  on  one  elbow  and  blinked  sleepily  at 
the  flame  of  the  candle  that  Ross  had  set  on  the 
table. 

"  The  letter ! "  repeated  Ross  in  a  loud  tone. 
"  Your  letter — Hans'  letter.  Did  you  leave  it  in 
your  coat  pocket  ?  " 

Lucky  sat  up  still  bewildered.  "  In  my  coat 
pocket,"  he  repeated  aimlessly,  "  beside  the  stove 
there.  Can't  ye  find  it  ?  Who  wants  it  ?  " 

"See  here,  Lucky, "  cried  Ross  impatiently, 
"  you  wake  up  !  I  guess  the  McKenzies  want  it — 
and  I  believe  they've  got  it,  too  ! " 

Lucky,  thoroughly  awake  at  last,  came  out  of 
his  bunk  with  a  bound.  "  Doc,  what's  that  ye're 
sayin'  about  that  letter  ?  I've  been  dreamin' " 

Ross  held  up  the  coat.  "  Did  you  leave  Hans' 
letter  in  your  pocket — the  pocket  of  your  coat  ?  " 

Lucky,  catching  up  his  shoes  from  force  of 
habit,  stood  with  them  clutched  in  one  hand. 
With  the  other  he  mechanically  combed  his 
roughened  hair. 

287 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  The  letter — of  course  it's  in  my  coat — there  in 
the  breast  pocket,  the  inside  pocket." 

Ross  tossed  the  coat  to  its  owner.  "  Find  it — if 
you  can.  I  can't.  I  got  up  to  hunt  out  that  haunt 
and  run  on  this  coat.  Pulled  it  off  the  peg  and 
then  happened  to  think " 

He  paused,  watching  Lucky.  The  latter  had 
dropped  his  shoes  as  he  caught  the  coat  and,  sit 
ting  on  the  edge  of  his  bunk,  was  hastily  going 
through  the  pockets,  his  teeth  clinched  and  his 
lips  drawn  back  in  his  absorption. 

"  It  ain't  here,  Doc,"  he  said  in  a  hushed  voice, 
finally.  The  coat  fell  from  nerveless  fingers  to  the 
floor.  He  passed  both  hands  through  his  hair. 

"  The  McKenzies  have  one  on  us,  all  right !  " 
said  Ross. 

Lucky  assented  gloomily.  "  There  can't  be  no 
two  ways  about  that.  While  we  was  up  there 
lookin'  out  fer  Hans'  claim,  the  McKenzies  got 
Hans'  letter,  and,  Doc,  they  fur  better  'a'  got  the 
claim.  How  could  I  be  sj  headless  as  t'  go  off  and 
leave  my  coat  behind.  Jest  simple  headless  !  "  he 
reiterated  in  bitter  self-condemnation. 

"  We  were  both  too  excited  to  think  straight  I  " 
exclaimed  Ross  despondently.  He  sat  down  on 
the  bench  and,  clasping  his  knees  with  his  arms, 
looked  inquiringly  at  Lucky.  "  But — ranting  at 
ourselves  won't  bring  that  letter  back,"  he  added. 

288 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Lucky's  lips  straightened  and  tightened.  He 
reached  again  for  his  shoes.  "  Nope — but  travelin' 
will,  'r  I'll  never  answer  t'  the  name  of '  Lucky  ' 
agin  1  " 

"  Traveling?" 

"  That's  the  word."  Lucky  laced  his  high  moun 
tain  shoes  hurriedly.  There  was  an  expression  on 
his  face  which  Ross  had  not  seen  there  before,  an 
expression  of  savage  determination  that  boded  no 
good  for  the  McKenzies.  "  I'm  goin'  t'  hike  out 
right  now  and  begin  t'  locate  that  letter  !  " 

His  rifle  lay  across  two  pegs  driven  between  the 
logs  above  his  bunk.  He  arose,  and  taking  it 
down,  stood  it  against  the  bunk. 

Ross  commenced  to  lace  his  own  shoes.  "  I  saw 
their  camp-fire -"  he  began. 

"  So  did  I,"  interrupted  Lucky,  "  but  don't  ye 
keep  on  thinkin'  that  they're  where  that  fire  was. 
They've  left  there,  bag  'n'  baggage,  since  then. 
We'll  go  over  and  take  a  look  at  that  camp,  though, 
first  thing.  Sometimes  an  old  camp  tells  a  long 
yarn." 

Ross,  uneasily  intent  on  the  other's  expression, 
bungled  with  his  shoe  lacings.  "  Sandy  is  no 
wiser  with  that  letter  than  we  are,"  he  exclaimed 
suddenly.  "  Of  course  he  can't  read  German 
script !  " 

Lucky  paused  and  looked  up.  The  ferocity 

289 


ROSS    GRANT 

died  out  of  his  face.  He  half  smiled  in  relief. 
"  Headless  agin,  Doc.  I  hadn't  got  'round  t' 
think  of  that !  But  I'm  mighty  glad  there's  two 
of  us  here  and  t'other  one  has  brains." 

Ross  grinned.  "  I'm  not  guilty  of  many,  but 
the  few  I  have  tells  me  that  Sandy  is  going  to  feel 
like  sixty  when  he  finds  he  can't  make  head  nor 
tail  out  of  that  letter  !  " 

Lucky's  expression  of  determination  deepened. 
He  spoke  resolutely.  "  But  we'll  hike  right  along 
jest  the  same.  I'll  feel  a  heap  sight  better  t'  have 
the  letter  in  my  pocket  than  Sandy's.  I  never 
want  t'  take  no  chances  on  Sandy." 

As  they  were  leaving  the  shack,  Ross  thought  of 
the  Monkey. 

"  How  about  our  engagement  with  the  Pages  ?  " 
he  asked,  pausing.  "  They  were  to  come  down 
here  this  morning " 

"  Other  engagements  ain't  of  no  account  beside 
the  pressin'  one  we've  got  with  Sandy,"  retorted 
Lucky. 

"  But  the  Pages  will  wonder,"  insisted  Ross, 
hanging  back.  "  Suppose  I  leave  a  note." 

Lucky  unwillingly  paused.  "  If  ye  can  write  it 
in  one  jerk  of  a  mule's  tail,  all  right,"  he  con 
sented. 

With  a  pencil  Ross  scrawled  on  the  margin  of 
an  old  yellowed  newspaper  that  lay  among  the 

290 


GOLD    HUNTER 

wood  behind  the  stove,  "  The  McKenzies  are  gone 
and  we  are  trailing  them — don't  know  where,  nor 
when  we'll  be  back." 

This  he  nailed  to  the  door  jamb  and  then  joined 
Lucky. 

When  the  two  set  out,  the  sky  over  the  eastern 
peaks  was  just  giving  promise  of  the  dawn.  The 
valley  lay  gray  and  unreal  between  huge  black 
mountains.  Out  of  the  blue  blackness  of  the 
heavens  the  stars  were  being  blotted  out  one  by 
one.  The  wind  was  still,  but  a  chill  more  pene 
trating  had  succeeded  it.  The  water  on  the  trail 
had  frozen.  Man  and  boy  passed  like  specters 
through  this  cold  gray  dim  valley,  the  former 
stalking  in  advance  on  swift  sure  feet,  the  latter 
following  unsteadily,  stumbling  in  the  uncertain 
light.  Silently  they  followed  the  windings  of  the 
valley  until  Lucky  halted  abruptly  and  swerved 
to  the  right. 

"  No  use  goin'  any  further  up  here,  Doc,"  he 
said,  jerking  his  head  to  the  left.  "  They  hain't 
took  our  bosses  ner  unhobbled  'em.  That's 
right  good  in  Sandy ! "  His  low  voice  was 
ironical. 

Ross  peered  up  the  valley  and  saw  three  shapes 
among  the  sage-brush.  One  moved  toward  them, 
giving  a  low  whinny. 

From  the  valley  Lucky  struck  the  bridle  trail 

291 


ROSS    GRANT 

which  led  to  the  canon  on  the  other  side  of  Sheep's 
Horn.  He  walked  slowly,  his  head  bowed,  scan 
ning  the  trail  sharply.  As  they  mounted,  objects 
became  more  clearly  defined.  The  eastern  sky 
brightened  and  the  last  star  disappeared.  At  the 
summit,  Lucky  stopped  and  looked  sharply  over 
the  valley. 

"  Doc,  they  didn't  come  over  on  this  side,"  was 
his  conclusion.  "  There  ain't  no  traces  of  'em  on 
this  trail,  and  if  they  got  over  here  with  their 
bosses  they'd  have  t'  come  this  way  'r  else  go  up 
the  canon  some  five  mile." 

The  other  side  of  the  mountain  was  wooded. 
Lucky  moved  cautiously  among  the  trees,  Ross  fol 
lowing  with  equal  care.  The  McKenzies  might  be 
within  hearing,  and  it  was  Lucky's  desire  to  "  meet 
up  "  with  them  unexpectedly.  At  the  foot  of  the 
mountain,  instead  of  emerging  into  the  narrow 
treeless  canon,  he  followed  its  upward  windings 
under  cover  of  the  forest.  Wordlessly  the  two  ad 
vanced  until  they  came  to  a  broad  open  space 
where  the  grass  had  been  tramped  by  horses'  feet 
and  the  tops  cropped.  Here  Lucky  took  to  the 
open.  Still  speechless,  however,  he  examined  the 
grazing  ground  and  then,  crossing  the  canon,  be 
gan  the  ascent  of  a  narrow  trail  which  led  to  the 
cold  embers  of  a  camp-fire  that  Ross  had  seen  the 
previous  evening. 

292 


GOLD    HUNTER 

The  refuse  from  the  McKenzies'  supper  strewed 
the  ground.  There  was  a  little  pile  of  flour  where 
the  sack  had  stood.  Two  heaps  of  hemlock  boughs 
marked  the  spot  where  they  had  intended  to  spend 
the  night.  On  these  signs  of  their  recent  presence 
Lucky  spent  not  a  moment.  Rather,  he  made  an 
immediate  study  of  the  soft  loam  on  the  slope  be 
low  the  embers.  Ross  watched  alertly,  but  to  him 
the  marred  earth  told  nothing  further  than  that  a 
horse  had  stood  there  not  many  hours  before.  To 
Lucky  it  told  more. 

"  I  guess,"  he  said  in  a  perplexed  and  muffled 
voice,  "  that  our  birds  have  got  a  longer  wing  than 
I'd  reckoned  on." 

"  Where  have  they  gone  ?  "  asked  Ross  eagerly. 

Lucky  straightened  himself  and  pointed  down 
ward.  "  Jedgin'  from  the  signs  here  they've 
started  on  a  long  hike.  Their  hoss  has  braced  it 
self  hard  against  the  cinch  and  pack  rope,  and  if 
they  was  jest  goin'  t'  change  camps,  they'd  not  be 
loadin'  fer  the  trail.  That's  what  I  come  up  here 
t'  see.  I  seen  down  there,"  waving  a  hand  toward 
the  canon,  "  that  three  bosses  had  gone  on  up  the 
canon  from  the  feedin'  ground.  This  tells  me 
what  I  aimed  t'  know."  He  turned  and  regarded 
Ross  soberly.  "  I'm  afraid,  Doc,  ye  won't  git 
started  fer  Elk's  Pass  with  that  letter  to-day. 
They've  got  too  many  hours  the  start  of  us." 

293 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Are  we  going  to  follow  ?  "  asked  Ross  anx 
iously. 

Lucky's  response  was  prompt.  "  We're  goin'  t' 
foller,  always  pervidin'  we  can't  git  ahead  I  " 

"Where  do  you  think  they've  started  for?" 
asked  Ross  wonderingly.  "  Why  are  they  going 
away  from  Sheep's  Horn  and  the  claim  ?  " 

"  I  figure  it  out  this  way,"  answered  Lucky  as 
they  started  down  the  trail.  "Sandy  is  smart. 
When  he  got  holt  of  that  letter  and  found  he 
couldn't  read  it,  he  didn't  think,  as  I  did,"  rue 
fully,  "  that  it  was  a  mess  of  hen  tracks.  He  must 
'a'  sized  it  up  as  a  furrin  lingo  and  hiked  out  t' 
find  some  one  who  could  read  it." 

"  You've  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,"  cried  Ross 
excitedly.  "  I  know  you  have.  Who'll  he  go 
to?" 

Lucky  shook  his  head.  "  We'll  saddle  up  and 
find  out  if  we  can,"  he  answered  significantly. 

The  sun  was  not  yet  up  when,  breakfast  eaten 
and  the  packhorse  loaded,  the  two  rode  over  the 
mountain  from  the  valley  to  the  canon  and  took 
up  the  trail  of  the  McKenzies.  In  answer  to  Ross's 
excited  urging  that  they  start  at  once  instead  of  re 
turning  to  the  shack  and  eating,  Lucky  had  ex 
plained  : 

"  Doc,  we've  got  a  long  hard  day's  ride  ahead  of 
us.  A  hot  snack  and  a  hot  drink  won't  come  amiss 

294 


GOLD   HUNTER 

to  start  off  on.  We  can  keep  our  heads  better  that 
way,  and,  it  seems,"  with  a  frown,  "  as  if  I  needed 
somethin*  t'  help  mine  along — mebbe  it's  a  new 
head  that  I'm  needin'." 

As  they  rode  off,  Lucky  ahead,  the  packhorse 
next  and  Ross  following,  the  latter  regarded  his 
leader  wonderingly.  There  had  not  been  one  word 
from  Lucky  concerning  his  own  delayed  work,  or 
the  fact  that  he  was  trying  to  benefit  an  entire 
stranger,  sick  and  helpless  in  the  clutches  of  a 
strange  land  and  a  strange  language.  The  only 
explanation  for  his  conduct  lay  in  the  man's  kind 
face  and  in  the  grateful  statement  he  had  made  to 
Ross  the  first  day  of  their  meeting  concerning  the 
elder  Holzworth  :  "  Fred  done  me  many  a  good 
turn  afore  he  died." 

Hour  after  hour  the  three  bronchos  followed 
slowly  and  patiently  on  the  trail  of  the  other  three 
which  had  gone  six  or  eight  hours  before.  The 
McKenzies  had  evidently  gone  to  the  head  of  the 
canon  in  the  darkness  and  had  camped  there  until 
dawn.  About  the  time  their  trailers  had  started 
from  the  cabin,  they  had  commenced  the  difficult 
ascent  of  a  mountain  to  the  southwest  of  the 
canon. 

On  their  camping  ground  Lucky  called  a  halt, 
curbing  Ross's  impatience  to  follow  at  once. 
"  We'll  feed  man  and  beast  here/'  said  Lucky 

295 


ROSS    GRANT 

firmly.  "  Both  will  then  be  more  fitten  to  the 
task.  We've  gained  on  'em,  as  it  is.  We've  made 
two  hours  since  we  started." 

He  spoke  cheerfully,  but  Ross  saw  that  he  was 
puzzled.  He  let  the  bacon  burn,  standing  over  it 
with  his  gaze  glued  to  the  skillet ;  and,  when  the 
mid-morning  meal  was  ready,  he  ate  but  little. 

"  Lucky,"  said  Ross  finally  with  quiet  insist 
ence,  "  you  may  as  well  tell  me  what  it  is." 

Lucky  put  down  the  tin  cup  out  of  which  he 
had  been  drinking.  He  met  the  boy's  eyes  hon 
estly.  "  Doc,  I'd  tell  ye  in  a  minit  if  I  knew  what 
t'  tell." 

"  You're  puzzled,  then,  as  to  where  the  McKenzies 
are  heading  for  ?  " 

"  As  puzzled  as  I  ever  was  in  my  life.  They're 
takin'  us  t'  nowhere  and  int'  No  Man's  Land. 
By  sundown  we'll  be  in  the  Teton  Forest  Reserve. 
D'ye  see  that  here  the  mount'ins  ain't  staked  ? 
We're  outside  the  gold  lands  here,  and,  s'  far  as  I 
know,  no  one's  workin7  hereabouts." 

Ross  finished  the  scorched  bacon  with  a  hunger 
that  suspense  could  not  blunt.  "  Are  you  guessing 
about  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

Lucky  shook  his  head.  "  I  guessed  hard  up  to 
here.  Now  I've  stopped.  I  knew  if  they  started 
up  the  canon  they'd  have  t'  come  this  fur.  Here 
I  expected  'em  t'  go  northeast,  a-headin'  fer  some 

296 


GOLD    HUNTER 

place  that  holds  men.  But  t'  keep  on  toward  the 

Reserve "  Lucky  arose  abruptly.  "  There's 

only  one  thing  t'  do — foller." 

He  stood  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  looking 
down  at  the  boy.  A  smile  lighted  his  face.  "  But 
I'll  tell  ye  now,  Doc,  there's  one  hope  ahead." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  asked  Ross  eagerly.  "  Where's 
that  hope?" 

"  Wait,"  parried  Lucky,  "  till  we  come  t'  the 
partin'  of  the  trails  in  the  Valley  of  the  Forks, 
and  that'll  tell  which  'ill  come  out  ahead,  them 


or  us." 


Ross  waited  impatiently. 

Half  an  hour  later  they  crossed  a  creek  with 
sandy  banks,  and,  stopping,  watered  their  horses 
and  drank  themselves.  As  Lucky  was  mounting 
again,  his  glance  fell  on  the  soft  dirt  the  other 
side  of  the  creek.  "  Huh  !  "  he  ejaculated,  cross 
ing  over. 

"What's  up?"  asked  Ross,  following. 

Lucky  pointed  to  an  impression  in  the  sand. 
"  Nothin's  up,  but  a  hoss  has  been  down." 

"  Looks  as  if  it  had  taken  a  roll  after  it  drank." 

"  Jest  so,"  answered  Lucky.  He  made  no  im 
mediate  explanation,  but  continued  to  study  the 
sand.  "  Looks  t'  me,"  he  said  finally,  "  like  they 
have  a  sick  hoss  on  their  hands.  That's  the  only 
way  I  can  explain  it,  fer  there's  no  camp  here." 

297 


ROSS    GRANT 

"Sorry  for  the  horse,"  Ross  responded,  "but 
that  would  mean  we  may  overhaul  them  soon. 
Perhaps  that's  the  reason  we've  gained  on  'em  so 
fast,"  hopefully. 

"  Likely,"  assented  Lucky,  mounting. 

They  pushed  on  faster,  but  did  not  overhaul  the 
McKenzies,  nor  did  they  see  any  further  signs  of 
a  sick  horse.  At  last,  as  they  came  to  the  foot  of 
a  wooded  mountain,  Lucky  drew  rein  and  breathed 
the  horses  a  while. 

"  Doc,"  he  said  quietly,  "  on  the  other  side  is  the 
Valley  of  the  Forks." 

That  was  all,  but  Ross  felt  his  suppressed  agita 
tion,  a  rising  anticipation  that  the  end  of  their 
journey  was  in  sight.  But  he  said  nothing 
further,  and  Ross  forebore  to  ask  questions.  Pres 
ently  they  rode  on,  climbing  the  narrow  trail  over 
the  mountain  up  into  the  very  face  of  the  sun  that 
shone  so  hotly  now  that  the  boy  took  off  his  coat 
and  laid  it  across  the  pommel. 

At  the  summit  of  the  mountain  Luxjky  halted 
on  a  rocky  platform  which  formed  a  lofty  outlook 
over  the  valley  beyond.  The  man  motioned  with 
his  hand,  his  glance  darting  hastily  here  and 
there. 

"  The  Valley  of  the  Forks,"  he  said  briefly. 

They  were  facing  a  valley  bordered  by  two 
parallel  ranges  of  mountains.  A  quarter  of  a 

298 


GOLD    HUNTER 

mile  from  the  foot  of  their  outlook  the  valley  was 
cut  in  two  by  a  row  of  hills  which  arose  rapidly 
into  mountains,  constituting  a  middle  range  on 
either  side  of  which  the  divided  valley  forked  out 
into  two  gorges. 

"  Will  ye  stay  here  with  the  bosses,  Doc,  while 
I  foot  it  down  and  spy  out  the  land  ?  I  don't 
want  hoof  of  any  horse  but  theirs  t'  show  down 
there  yet." 

Ross  assented,  and  Lucky  disappeared  among 
the  trees  which  covered  that  side  of  the  mountain. 
"  If  I  wave  my  hat  at  ye,"  was  his  parting  direc 
tion,  "  it  means,  t  Come  on/  If  I  don't,  it  means 
I'm  comin'  back."  Then  he  halted,  and  threw 
over  his  shoulder  the  additional  information  : 
"  If  they've  gone  up  the  left  fork,  it'll  mean  that 
Sandy  hain't  heard  from  that  trail  since  last  winter, 
and  I  have  !  " 

Soon  Ross,  watching  from  the  rocks,  saw  Lucky 
below,  a  mere  miniature  man  making  his  way 
across  the  valley.  Skirting  the  hill  on  the  right, 
he  was  soon  hidden  by  a  bend  in  the  valley.  Be 
yond  the  bend  a  hemlock  forest  crept  down  from 
the  towering  mountains,  spread  out  across  the  fork 
of  the  valley,  and  climbed  the  hills. 

It  was  half  an  hour  before  Lucky  came  into 
sight  again.  Ross  leaned  forward  with  tense 
muscles,  watching  for  the  "  Come-on "  signal ; 

299 


ROSS    GRANT 

but  the  other  did  not  give  it.  He  crossed  the 
open  valley,  and  disappeared  among  the  trees  at 
the  foot  of  the  lookout.  Long  afterward  Ross 
heard  him  coming  back. 

"  Well  ?  "  questioned  Ross  the  moment  his  head 
appeared  above  the  rocks. 

But  Lucky's  face  answered  the  query  before  his 
voice  did.  His  face  glowed  triumphantly,  and  his 
deep-set  eyes  twinkled. 

"  They  took  the  left  hand  trail,"  he  announced 
jocularly,  "  which  is  the  wrong  one  fer  'em  on 
this  hike  !  "  Taking  off  his  sombrero,  he  ran  his 
fingers  through  his  thick  hair.  His  tone  rang 
triumphantly  as  he  added,  "  Doc,  we've  got  'em 
in  a  trap." 

After  a  moment's  rest  he  explained  :  "  Ye  see, 
these  hills  don't  stay  hills  very  long.  They  stretch 
up  to  mount'ins  without  any  trail  acrost  'em,  and 
they  crowd  the  valley  on  each  side  till  all  that's 
left  is  two  canons  jest  wide  enough  to  squeeze 
through.  That  is,  the  right  one  is  wide  enough  ; 
but  the  left  one  pinches  out.  It  comes  to  an 
end  with  a  mount'in  like  Sheep's  Horn  acrost  it. 
The  McKenzies  are  aimin'  t'  git  over  that  moun 
t'in  as  they've  done  before,  but  they  can't.  Last 
winter  there  come  a  snowslide  and  a  landslide, 
and  there  ain't  never  a  sign  of  a  trail  left.  They 
couldn't  'a'  heard  about  it,  and  so  took  the  left 

300 


GOLD    HUNTER 

fork  because  that  used  t'  be  the  easiest  way.  Now 
the  only  thing  fer  'em  to  do  is  t'  come  back  and 
go  up  the  right  fork." 

"  Then,"  cried  Ross  eagerly,  "  all  we've  got  to 
do  is  to  go  down  into  the  valley  and  wait  for 
them." 

Lucky  shook  his  head.  "  That  would  do  all 
right  if  we  knew  where  they'd  cross  over  from 
the  left  canon  t'  the  right.  But  we  don't  know. 
They  won't  have  t'  come  'way  back  here.  They 
can  git  acrost  most  anywheres  among  the  hills  fer 
three  miles  up.  And  if  they  should  happen  t' 
come  in  behind  our  tracks — why,  we'd  never  see 
hide  ner  hair  of  'em.  They'd  hike  back  rather 
than  risk  overhaulin'  us.  Sandy  never  takes  no 
risks  on  his  precious  self,"  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders.  "  No,  we've  got  t'  lead  the  bosses  over 
the  right  range  here,  and  travel  a  hard  trail  runnin' 
neck  and  neck  with  the  right  fork,  and  then  foot  it 
over  the  range,  and  head  'em  off  sudden  like." 

Lucky  pointed  to  the  range  of  peaks  bordering 
the  right  fork  of  the  valley,  where  they  immediately 
made  their  way.  On  the  other  side  they  traveled 
a  difficult  and  winding  trail.  Before  they  had 
journeyed  half  an  hour  Ross  was  confused.  "  I 
don't  know  which  side  of  the  range  we're  on,  nor 
where  to  look  for  the  McKenzies,"  he  explained 
ruefully  as  they  sat  down  to  eat  supper  beside  a 

301 


ROSS    GRANT 

little  stream  which  ran  among  the  hemlocks. 
"  We've  doubled  and  twisted  until  my  head  is 
turned." 

Lucky  smiled  and  pointed.  "  Over  there's  the 
range  that's  between  us  and  them.  We're  takin' 
a  short  cut  to  where  we  can  cross  over.  In  an 
hour  we'll  be  on  the  other  side  a-waitin'  fer  'em." 

Ross  began  to  eat  hurriedly.  "  They  may  be 
passing  that  point  now,  and  we're  not  there  to  head 
them  off!  " 

Lucky  helped  himself  leisurely  to  the  crackers 
and  canned  dried  beef  that  they  had  brought  along. 
"  Doc,  don't  go  and  choke  yerself.  They  can't  be 
there  yet.  We  won't  miss  'em.  Go  easy  on  this 
beef.  Wish  we  could  fire  up,"  gazing  longingly  at 
the  coffee-pot  lying  useless  beside  their  meager 
supplies. 

"  Would  they  be  apt  to  see  the  smoke?"  asked 
Ross. 

"  Might,"  assented  Lucky.  "  Don't  never  take 
no  chances  with  a  fire  if  ye  don't  want  t'  be  seen," 
he  advised.  "  Ye  see  the  air  up  here  in  the 
mount'ins  is  so  powerful  clear  that  a  smoke  might 
give  ye  away  for  a  matter  of  ten  miles  off.  Ye 
never  can  tell.  After  dark  it's  safe  enough  per- 
vidin'  the  flame  can't  be  seen.  After  dark  to-night 
— and  mebbe  before,  we'll  fill  up  on  coffee  and  have 
some  ham  and  soup  !  " 

302 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  That  sounds  good,"  exclaimed  Ross.  "  I  al 
most  wish  it  were  dark  now !  Wouldn't  Aunt 
Anne  laugh  if  she  could  see  me  eat  here — and  see 
what  I  eat,"  with  a  chuckle.  "  Aunt  Anne  is  my 
uncle's  wife,"  he  explained,  "  the  one  I've  lived 
with  since  I  was  twelve.  She's  a  crackerjack  of  a 
cook ! "  enthusiastically.  "  Why,  Lucky,  if  we 
should  sit  down  to  a  meal  of  her  cooking  up  here 
in  the  mountains,  we — why,  we'd  eat  till  we  about 
burst !  " 

"  Don't  doubt  it.  But  I've  found,  Doc,  that  the 
best  appetite  don't  always  travel  the  same  trail  with 
the  richest  vittles  or  the  best  cook.  I  was  up  in 
the  Big  Horn  once  with  a  Sissy  from  Massachusetts. 
He  was  ailin'  and  his  pa  had  spent  a  fortin  'r  two 
on  his  stomick — tryin'  t'  git  it  t'  hike  along  on 
schedule  time,  which  it  wouldn't  never  do,  and 
finally  Sissy  got  dumped  off  on  me  one  summer. 
I  was  in  jest  such  a  camp  'n'  shack  as  we  live  in 
down  t'  the  Pass  now.  Wall,  first  day  Sissy  knew 
he'd  die  of  a  stomick  spell  when  I  set  good  honest 
flapjacks  and  bacon  and  coffee  before  'im.  Said  it 
had  been  years  sense  he'd  eat  any  part  of  a  hog, 
and  as  fer  '  pancakes,'  as  he  called  'em,  they  wa'n't 
never  fitten  fer  a  hog  t'  eat !  And  the  coffee  was 
more  like  stiff  mud,  he  said,  and  the  tin  can  goods 
was  all  filled  with  tomato  poisonin'  or  somethin' 
that  sounded  like  that !  My !  Didn't  he  throw 

303 


ROSS    GRANT 

fits — and  give  some  t'  me  !  But  there  he  was  by 
orders  of  his  doctor,  and  no  baby  food  pervided 
either.  That  doctor  had  sound  boss  sense,  and  the 
second  day,  Sissy,  he  braced  up  and  tasted  things, 
and  was  surprised  t'  find  he  didn't  die — -jest  got 
doubled  up  with  a  cramp  'r  two  that  he  got  over. 
Wall,  the  third  day  the  poor  chap  was  that  hungry 
that  his  mouth  watered  at  the  smell  of  bacon  and 
flapjacks,  and  he  begun  t'  eat.  Nation !  How 
that  feller  did  eat !  He  made  up  fer  years  of  star 
vation  in  about  two  weeks,  and  I  run  out  o'  grub 
and  had  t7  send  him  down  t'  Cody " 

Here  Lucky  interrupted  his  story.  "  It's  no 
time  now,  Doc,  t'  hit  Sissy's  trail.  That's  a  long 
story.  Hand  over  the  rest  of  that  beef,  will  ye  ? 
Here,  fill  yer  pockets  with  these  crackers  and  let's 
be  goin'." 

Half  an  hour  later  Lucky  drew  rein  at  the  foot 
of  the  range,  and  dismounted.  "  Here's  where 
we'll  picket  the  bosses  and  foot  it  across,"  he  ex 
plained  with  a  preoccupied  air. 

The  sun  had  left  the  valleys,  and  was  gilding  the 
peaks  and  painting  the  sky  in  glorious  reds  and 
yellows.  The  clear,  sharp  air  went  far  toward  rob 
bing  Ross  of  the  weariness  which  succeeds  a  day  in 
the  saddle ;  and  excitement  finished  the  task  the 
air  began.  He  mounted  with  Lucky  shoulder  to 
shoulder.  He  hoped  that  from  the  summit  he 

304 


GOLD    HUNTER 


305 


ROSS    GRANT 

could  command  a  view  of  the  canon  and  the  ap 
proaching  McKenzies  ;  but  both  sides  of  the  peak 
were  wooded,  affording  no  outlook  save  glimpses 
of  a  looming  peak  on  the  other  side  of  the  canon, 
and  so  near  that  it  seemed  to  Ross  the  branches 
of  the  trees  on  the  steep,  sloping  sides  must  inter 
lock. 

The  canon,  like  dozens  of  its  neighbors  among 
the  Shoshones,  was  a  winding  gorge  just  wide 
enough  for  the  passage  of  a  stream  and  a  trail  that 
crossed  and  recrossed  the  creek  in  order  to  gain  a 
slender  foothold  against  the  faces  of  the  mountains. 

"  They  hain't  passed,"  Lucky  announced  after  a 
brief  scrutiny  of  the  trail.  "  We'll  wait  fer  'em 
here.  They'll  likely  try  t'  make  camp  about  five 
mile  above  here,  where  there's  an  old  shack." 

They  selected  a  rock  hard  by  the  trail,  and  sat 
down  behind  it  to  wait.  Through  a  cluster  of 
sage-brush  they  could  see  the  trail  a  few  rods  each 
way.  A  huge  boulder  pushed  it  almost  into  the 
creek  on  the  side  from  which  the  McKenzies  must 
come.  Another  boulder  hung  above  their  heads, 
projecting  far  over  the  path.  They  were  mere 
pygmies  in  the  midst  of  a  mighty  upheaval  of  old 
Mother  Earth. 

Leaning  back  against  a  flat  stone,  and  stretch 
ing  out  his  feet  with  a  dawning  realization  that  he 
was  tired,  Ross  began  straining  his  ears  and  eyes 

306 


GOLD    HUNTER 

for  signs  of  the  oncoming  travelers.  But,  seeing 
Lucky  lie  back  restfully,  his  hat  beside  him,  his 
hands  pillowing  his  head,  his  long  legs  extended, 
with  the  rifle  beside  him,  the  boy  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  relaxed  his  taut  muscles. 

"  They  likely  won't  be  along  yet  fer  an  hour," 
Lucky  volunteered ;  but  he  spoke  in  a  muffled 
undertone.  "  Best  not  depend  on  their  bein'  a 
great  ways  off,  though,"  he  added. 

Ross,  his  hat  drawn  over  his  eyes,  lay  looking 
up  at  the  sunset  glow  in  the  deep  blue  sky  arched 
over  the  narrow  canon.  The  summits  of  the  peaks 
were  clad  in  snow,  splashed  now  with  brilliant 
colors.  With  the  sunshine  still  touching  the 
peaks,  the  shadows  of  night  began  to  fall  in  the 
narrow  canon.  "  Maybe  they  went  back  instead 
of  coming  over  to  the  right  fork/'  Ross  suggested. 

"  No,  they'd  expect  t'  meet  up  with  us.  They 
must  know  they  left  a  mighty  plain  trail.  Ye  see 
they  probably  reasoned  that  they  had  s'  many 
hours  the  start  they  didn't  need  t'  use  any  caution, 
and  so  never  covered  their  trail.  No,"  decidedly ; 
"  they're  bound  t'  come  this  way." 

A  squirrel  ran  down  the  tree  trunk  in  front  of 
Ross,  and  leaped  to  the  rock  fearlessly.  It  was 
probably  the  first  time  the  little  creature  had  seen 
a  man,  and  it  felt  no  fear.  Ross  watched  it  a 
moment  in  silence.  Then  : 

30; 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Lucky,  I've  been  thinking  how  helpless  we 
are,  in  the  eyes  of  the  law,  without  that  letter." 

Lucky,  who  had  arisen  on  his  elbow,  facing  the 
down  trail,  did  not  turn  his  head.  "  You've  been 
a-thinkin'  about  right,"  he  responded  dryly. 

"  Suppose,"  pursued  Ross,  following  his  own 
thoughts,  "  Sandy  should  find  that  cache.  We 
couldn't  swear  that  it  was  the  same  free  gold  that 
Holzworth  hid,  because  we  have  never  read  the 
letter.  Hans  has  read  it ;  but,  if  he  couldn't  pro 
duce  it  and  had  no  witnesses,  what  would  his  word 
be  worth  ?  " 

"  Nothin',"  whispered  Lucky.  He  turned  slowly, 
and  looked  earnestly  at  Ross.  "  But,  Doc,  what  I 
done  I  done  fer  the  best,  and  s'  far  as  my  head 
went  it  seemed  a  good  thing ;  but  my  head — sh  !  " 

Ross  had  not  heard  a  sound ;  but  Lucky  noise 
lessly  came  to  his  feet,  gun  in  hand,  and,  crouch 
ing  behind  the  sage-brush,  obscure  in  its  shadows, 
watched  the  boulder  around  which  the  trail  wound. 
Ross,  his  heart  beating  to  the  point  of  suffocation, 
but  his  head  clear,  got  on  his  knees  and  waited, 
knowing  that  his  part  in  this  justifiable  hold-up 
would  be  to  get  the  letter  while  Lucky  covered 
the  riders  with  his  gun. 

And  now  he  too  heard  sounds,  the  steady  ap 
proaching  hoof  beats,  the  clatter  of  stones,  the 
noise  of  oncoming  horses.  Louder  and  louder 

308 


GOLD    HUNTER 

grew  the  noise,  echoing  back  from  the  walls  of  the 
canon.  Lucky  crouched  lower,  but  Ross,  even  in 
his  excitement,  noticed  that  the  man's  right  arm  was 
motionless  and  his  hand  perfectly  steady.  Around 
the  boulder  came  the  first  horse.  It  was  ridden 
by  Waymart,  half  dozing,  his  chin  resting  on  his 
chest.  The  tail  of  his  horse  was  knotted  to  a 
leading-rope ;  and,  as  the  second  animal  came  in 
sight,  they  saw  it  was  the  packhorse,  with  the 
rope  about  its  neck. 

Then  Ross  saw  Lucky  give  a  convulsive  start, 
saw  his  arm  relax  and  the  gun  fall  to  his  side. 
For  attached  to  the  packhorse's  tail  was  another 
leading-rope ;  and  at  its  end  was  Sandy's  horse, 
saddleless  and  riderless,  swinging  easily  along, 
snatching  at  rare  bits  of  grass  beside  the  trail  or 
pulling  back  on  his  rope,  unaccustomed  to  being 
led. 

Sandy,  the  brains  of  the  McKenzie  outfit,  was 
not  with  his  brother,  nor  had  he  been  since  the 
latter  started  from  Sheep's  Horn ! 


309 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    LETTER 

Ross,  kneeling,  watched  Lucky.  Lucky,  after 
the  first  convulsive  start,  made  no  motion.  He 
still  crouched,  his  gaze  fastened  on  the  nodding 
rider,  his  gun  clutched  at  his  side.  The  three 
horses,  taking  their  own  gait,  guided  only  by  the 
turns  in  the  trail,  filed  past  the  screening  rock, 
clattered  up  the  canon,  and  passed  out  of  sight. 
Not  until  the  last  beat  of  their  hoofs  gave  place  to 
silence  did  man  or  boy  alter  his  position.  Then 
Lucky  arose  stiffly.  Ross  arose  also,  looking  ex 
pectantly  at  the  other. 

"Wall,  Doc/'  said  Lucky  finally,  "Sandy's 
ahead.  He  has  beat  us  and  got  twenty-four  hours 
start,  and  will  have  forty-eight  before  we  git  back. 
If  I  had  a  head  like  Sandy " 

"  You  wouldn't  be  putting  it  to  the  use  Sandy 
does,"  interrupted  Ross  forcefully. 

Lucky  paid  no  attention  to  the  praise  implied. 
He  leaned  against  the  rock  staring  up  the  trail. 
"  Doc,"  he  reiterated,  "  I  done  the  best  fer  Hans  I 
knew  how  when  I  got  that  letter.  I  hadn't  reck 
oned  on  no  such  thing  as  this." 

310 


GOLD   HUNTER 

"  No,"  returned  Ross,  hot  with  self-condemna 
tion,  "  and  you  wouldn't  have  to  reckon  with  it 
now  if  I  hadn't  been  such  a  fool  as  to  follow  you 
to  Sheep's  Horn.  I  have  myself  to  blame  for  all 
this  business.  The  McKenzies  might  have  been 
sitting  on  Elk  Mountain  now  watching  and  cool 
ing  their  heels  if  I  had  minded  my  own  business." 

Lucky  met  the  boy's  eyes  with  a  glance  in  which 
were  blended  affection  and  admiration.  "  Doc, 
when  ye  come  ye  was  doin'  what  ye  thought  was 
best,  wa'n't  ye  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  was,"  gratefully. 

"  Wall,  ye  couldn't  'a'  done  better,  then.  And 
now,  as  I  make  it,  the  only  way  is  t'  keep  on  doin' 
what  we  think  is  best.  I  don't  know  no  other  way 
t1  do." 

"  And  that  is— what  ?"  asked  Ross. 

"  Let's  eat  on  that  question,"  evaded  Lucky, 
"and  think  on  it." 

There  was  no  question  in  the  mind  of  either  as 
to  which  brother  had  the  letter.  Sandy  had 
planned  the  ruse  skilfully,  although  its  success  was 
costing  him  a  long  and  unaccustomed  foot  journey. 
He  knew  that  Lucky  would  look  for  the  trail  of 
three  horses,  and  it  would  not  do  to  leave  the  trail 
of  two  only,  therefore  he  had  sent  Waymart  with 
the  three  in  the  direction  where  the  trail  would  be 
most  apparent. 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Sick  boss  I "  Lucky  broke  out  disgustedly  as 
tbe  two  climbed  the  mountain  on  the  way  to  their 
own  horses.  "  That  last  leadin'  rope  was  long 
enough  t'  let  Sandy's  roll  all  over  the  bank  of  the 
crick.  I  couldn't  see  int'  it — a  boss  rollin'  on  the 
trail  before  the  riders  made  camp."  Then  again 
dejectedly,  "  If  I  had  the  head  that's  on  Sandy " 

"  I'm  mighty  glad  you  haven't  his  heart  I " 
Ross  broke  in  quickly.  Privately,  he  considered 
Lucky's  head  as  good  as  Sandy's  where  the  odds 
were  the  same.  At  present  Lucky  was  working 
under  difficulties  into  which  he,  Ross,  had  plunged 
him. 

"  And  I  wish,"  thought  the  boy,  "  that  I  could 
find  the  way  out." 

In  silence  they  found  their  horses  and  began 
the  return  journey,  Ross  riding  behind  Lucky. 
The  boy  was  forcibly  reminded  of  the  ride  up  the 
canon  of  the  South  Fork  when  Lucky  had  ridden 
as  now,  with  head  bent  forward  in  deep  perplexity. 

"  Back  home  I  never  imagined  so  many  things 
happening  in  six  months  as  have  come  tumbling 
into  the  last  few  days,"  thought  Ross,  "  and  every 
thing  hasn't  happened  yet !  " 

"  Lucky,"  he  called  finally,  "  where  do  you 
think  Sandy  will  go  to  have  that  letter  read  ?  " 

"  Wall,"  answered  Lucky  slowly,  "  there's  Dutch 
Weimer  over  t'  Medder  Creek." 

312 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  But  he's  too  snow-blind  to  read,"  objected 
Ross. 

"That's  so,"  Lucky  assented.  "Well,  there's 
Daisy  Breitmann  down  on  the  U  Ranch.  I  don't 
know  nothin'  about  'im,  only  that  he's  a  Dutch 
man,  and  mebbe  could  read  the  letter." 

A  couple  of  hours  later  Lucky  drew  rein,  and, 
finding  a  sheltered  spot,  built  a  fire.  "  We're  two 
ranges  away  from  Mart,"  he  explained.  "  Guess  our 
smoke  won't  give  us  away,  and  mebbe  it  wouldn't 
do  no  harm  now  if  it  should,"  he  added  rather 
despondently. 

Presently  they  were  eating  in  a  sheltered  nook 
under  the  edge  of  a  boulder  at  the  foot  of  a  moun 
tain.  Before  them  was  a  bed  of  live  coals  on  which 
stood  the  coffee-pot  and  a  skillet.  A  few  rods  away 
their  horses  were  picketed  in  the  midst  of  a  plot  of 
tall  grass.  At  the  left,  with  a  gentle  tinkle  and 
murmur,  a  tiny  waterfall  slid  down  into  the 
valley. 

Pouring  a  generous  offering  of  coffee  into  a  tin 
cup,  Lucky  handed  it  to  Ross,  asking,  "  Wall,  Doc, 
have  ye  roped  an  idee  yet  ?  " 

"  Just  one,"  returned  Ross  promptly.  "  It's  the 
one  I  tried  to  work  at  first  and  it  wouldn't  work 
then  because  Hans  was  so  sick,  but  now  it  may  be 
I  could  work  it.  I'll  try  again,  if  you  can't  think 
of  anything  better." 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  My  head's  as  empty  as  a  drum.  What  ye  got 
on  yer  mind  ?  " 

Ross  drank  his  coffee  slowly,  and  spoke  more  to 
himself  than  to  Lucky.  "  He  hasn't  any  tempera 
ture  now,  and  so  I  could  keep  at  it  until  I  made 
him  understand.  Besides,  I  practiced  some  talk 
ing  with  him  after  you  left." 

"Who— Hans?"  asked  Lucky. 

"  Yes,  Hans.  And  now  I  have  something  defi 
nite  to  tell  him.  I  can  use  the  indicative  mood 
and  let  the  subjunctive  go  to  grass — where  it 
naturally  does  go  when  I  try  to  handle  it  in 
German ! " 

Lucky  scratched  his  head.  "  Doc,  don't  talk  t' 
me  about  no  moods,  but  tell  me  what  ye  aim  t' 
do." 

Ross  drained  his  tin  cup  of  the  muddy  coffee 
and  shook  the  last  drops  out  on  the  grass.  "  Well, 
why  not  send  me  back  to  Hans  as  fast  as  I  can  go, 
while  you  go  back  and  stay  on  the  job  at  the 
Horn — and  get  Dad  and  Nick  on  it  too?  I'll 
hurry  as  fast  as  I  can  and  sit  down  in  front  of 
Hans  and  tell  him  a  few  things  that  I  couldn't  tell 
him  before — that  is,  your  guesswork  is  history 
now,  and  I  can  put  the  thing  boldly.  I  can  tell 
him  positively  now  that  Sandy  is  a  rascal  and  has 
possession  of  his  precious  letter — stole  it.  I  can 
tell  him  positively  that  you  are  searching  for  the 


GOLD    HUNTER 

cache  and  intend  to  hold  it  down  for  him — Hans. 
I  can  tell  him  that  it's  up  to  him  to  tell  you,  or 
me  rather,  where  the  cache  is  so  that  you  can 
get  ahead  of  Sandy.  No  guesswork  about  those 
statements,  and  so  I  won't  be  obliged  to  hedge  and 
get  in  such  deep  water  in  the  German  language 
that  I  can't  get  out  again.  Then,  too,  I  stand  a 
better  chance  of  making  him  understand  now 
because  I  can  keep  at  it.  He's  well  enough  now 
to  stand  a  little  excitement  without  going  off  his 
head  and  getting  feverish.  I'll  make  him  under 
stand.  Then  I'll  do  my  best  to  beat  Sandy  back 
here.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

Lucky  pondered.  "  S'  long  as  Sandy  is  afoot, 
there's  a  chance  that  ye  could.  Yes,  it  seems  the 
best  way — because  I  can't  think  of  no  better.  But 
strikes  me  there'll  be  a  few  breakers  ahead  ready 
t'  bust  on  ye.  Don't  Hans  think  the  real  letter  is 
in  his  hands  ?  Didn't  ye  say  he  kept  it  out  tryin' 
t'  see  it  most  of  the  time  ?  How'll  ye  make  'im 
understand  that  that  ain't " 

"  I've  got  to  take  a  chance  on  the  whole  thing, 
Lucky,"  interrupted  Ross.  "  But  it's  the  best 
chance  I  can  think  of." 

"  Try  it,  Doc,  try  it !  "  Lucky  urged.  "  It  may 
help  out."  His  tone  did  not,  however,  have  the 
hopeful  ring  Ross  was  counting  on.  "  Let's  see,  we 
can  start  back  at  daylight,  but  it'll  take  till  noon 


ROSS    GRANT 

t'  set  ye  on  the  way  V  the  Pass.  Ye  can't  make 
it  before  the  next  noon  and  Sandy  has  had  sence 
dark  last  night — still,  he's  afoot.  But  I  want  ye  t' 
try  it,  Doc.  I'll  git  ye  started  off  right  at  the 
head  of  the  canon  above  the  Horn,  and  then  I'll 
hike  back  t'  the  Horn  and  watch  out." 

After  a  moment's  silence  Lucky  spoke  again. 
"There's  one  thing,  Doc,  that  might  be  in  our 
favor.  Ye  see,  Sandy  don't  have  no  need  t'  hurry. 
If  it  hadn't  'a'  been  fer  the  blockade  on  the  left 
fork,  we  would  ;a'  follered  Waymart  fer — wall,  I 
ain't  reckonin'  on  how  long." 

At  twelve  o'clock  the  day  following  the  trails 
of  the  two  parted,  Lucky  following  the  sinuous 
windings  of  the  canon  which  led  to  Sheep's  Horn, 
and  Ross,  with  a  fresh  assortment  of  notes  de 
scriptive  of  the  way,  turned  to  the  left  en  route  for 
the  Valley  of  the  Willows,  where  he  intended  to 
camp  for  the  night.  He  went  forward  confidently, 
for  Lucky,  mindful  of  Tod's  blunder,  had  laid  out 
the  way  carefully,  and  Ross's  faith  in  Lucky  was 
strong. 

His  faith,  however,  was  no  stronger  than  his 
liking,  and  there  was  one  side  in  the  many-sided 
affair  which  had  just  begun  to  impress  him  as  he 
rode  alone  through  the  rustling  forests  of  pine  and 
hemlock.  It  was  the  effect  on  Lucky's  reputation. 
How  would  the  matter  look  to  the  men  of  Big 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Horn  County  when  told  baldly,  fact  for  fact,  with 
the  fine  shading  of  Lucky's  generous  motives  left 
out  or  ignored  ?  It  was  one  thing  for  him  to  be 
able  to  vindicate  his  motives  by  turning  the  cache 
of  free  gold  safely  and  triumphantly  over  to  Hans, 
and  it  was  another  thing  to  say  that  he  had  in 
tended  to  turn  it  over.  As  things  stood  now, 
Lucky  would  show  up  as  a  traitor  toward  Hans. 
He  would  appear  to  have  attempted  to  rob  the 
man  for  whose  benefit  he  was  in  reality  robbing 
himself  of  time  and  strength.  One  phase  of  the 
matter,  however,  comforted  Ross,  and  that  was  the 
fact  that  Lucky  had  taken  Dad  and  Nicholas  into 
his  confidence.  They  had  seen  the  letter  and  they 
believed  in  Lucky's  good  intentions,  but  Dad  and 
Nicholas  were  only  two  out  of  the  many  whose 
opinion  Lucky  would  be  obliged  to  face. 

Ross  groaned  aloud.  "  I'd  give  a  good  deal," 
he  muttered  as  he  approached  the  mountain  on 
whose  further  side  lay  the  willows,  "  to  be  able  to 
get  him  out  of  this  fix.  He's  white  not  to  say  that 
I  got  him  into  it,  but  I  did,  just  the  same  !  " 

At  the  summit  of  the  trail  he  paused  to  breathe 
his  horse  and  look  about  him.  Profiting  by  his 
recent  experience,  he  had  been  keenly  observant 
of  his  surroundings  and  direction  since  parting 
from  Lucky,  having  in  mind  the  necessity  for  a 
speedy  and  sure  return.  Leaving  his  horse  with 


ROSS    GRANT 

the  bridle  reins  trailing,  he  climbed  to  a  point  on 
the  summit  from  which  the  valley  could  be  seen 
through  a  wide  lane  among  the  trees  cut  by  the 
yearly  snowslides. 

"  This  begins  to  look  familiar/'  he  said  with 
satisfaction  as  his  gaze  swept  the  willow  rilled  val 
ley.  "  I  won't  need  any  notes  on  the  way  back.'1 

It  was  late.  The  sun  had  set  and  the  twilight 
was  fast  falling  on  the  valley.  In  half  an  hour 
darkness  would  follow,  and  he  needed  that  half 
hour  for  the  trail  down  the  side  of  the  mountain. 
Drawing  his  watch  from  his  pocket  he  whistled 
with  surprise  at  the  story  it  told.  It  was  nearly 
nine  o'clock. 

"  We're  so  near  the  sun  up  here  in  this  alti 
tude,"  he  thought  whimsically,  "  that  the  light 
stays  longer — but  not  the  heat,"  he  added  as  he 
slipped  on  the  ice  that  a  slight  depression  in  the 
loam  held. 

He  had  turned  to  hurry  back  to  his  horse  when 
a  faint  odor  reached  his  nostrils,  an  odor  that 
startled  him. 

"  Smoke,"  he  muttered  aloud,  sniffing.  It  drifted 
to  him  from  the  left  at  the  edge  of  the  valley  out 
of  sight.  He  turned  his  face  toward  the  rising 
breeze.  The  odor  became  pronounced. 

"  Forest  fire  1 "  he  exclaimed.  "  It  mustn't  catch 
me  up  here." 


GOLD   HUNTER 

Hurrying  back  to  his  horse  he  mounted  and 
urged  the  animal  down  the  darkening  trail,  keep 
ing  his  face  turned  to  the  left.  Occasionally  only, 
however,  did  the  smoke  reach  him,  and  in  a  less 
ening  volume.  Nor  did  he  see  any  flame.  The 
trail  debouched  into  the  valley  at  the  right  and  as 
Ross  emerged  from  the  timber  his  horse  became 
suddenly  galvanized  into  life.  It  raised  its  head 
with  a  snort  and  its  rider  felt  a  ripple  pass  over 
the  muscles  beneath  his  legs.  At  once  the  boy 
jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  his  mount  had 
scented  a  bear.  Raising  Trigger's  gun  he  leaned 
forward  and  peered  over  the  horse's  head,  but  a 
moment's  ride  through  the  willows  toward  the 
stream  brought  him  on  a  sight  more  astonishing 
than  a  bear.  Heaped  carelessly  together  beside 
the  stream  was  a  pile  of  wooden  pack  saddles  arid 
pack  ropes,  but  no  packs.  At  that  moment  his 
horse  shied  and  nearly  ran  over  the  saddles  in  its 
efforts  to  avoid  a  dark  heap  of  objects  on  the 
other  side  of  the  trail  under  the  willows. 

Ross  dismounted  and,  stooping,  picked  an  ob 
ject  from  the  heap  and  held  it  up  in  the  fading 
light.  It  was  a  stout  new  gunny  bag.  He  stirred 
the  heap  with  his  foot.  It  consisted  only  of  empty 
bags.  Going  to  the  other  side  of  the  trail  he 
counted  the  saddles.  There  were  ten  of  wood  and 
two  of  leather.  As  he  finished  counting  a  crash 

319 


ROSS    GRANT 

through  the  underbrush  startled  him.  A  rough 
coated  broncho  appeared,  its  fore  legs  bound  by 
the  hobble  strap.  Another  horse  followed,  and 
another. 

For  a  long  moment  Ross  stood  motionless. 
Then,  in  a  flash,  the  presence  of  the  horses  and 
empty  pack  saddles  and  the  bags  took  on  a  new 
significance. 

"  It  can't  be  !  "  he  muttered,  startled.  "  Not  this 
quickly.  He  hasn't  had  time  to  get  anywhere  and 
back  again.1' 

But,  despite  this  self-assurance,  his  heart  beat 
suffocatingly  as  he  watered  his  own  horse  and 
then  led  it  back  to  the  cover  of  the  trees.  Here 
he  tied  it,  and  going  a  little  higher  on  the  moun 
tainside,  crept  along  stealthily  in  the  direction  of 
the  smoke.  As  he  approached  the  left  side  of  the 
valley  the  smoke  began  to  drift  into  his  face,  and 
he  could  see  a  cheerful  flame  curling  among  a  pile 
of  sage-brush.  Coming  nearer  he  walked  more 
cautiously,  stopping  occasionally  to  listen.  When 
he  came  within  sound  of  voices  he  edged  further 
down  among  the  willows,  dodging  from  one  cluster 
to  another  until  he  had  made  his  way  to  a  clump 
within  a  few  yards  of  the  fire.  There  he  halted 
and  awaited  a  chance  to  see  the  speakers.  But 
before  seeing  them  he  heard  them,  and  it  was 
Sandy's  voice  unmistakably  that  said  : 

320 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  If  ever  I  was  ready  to  turn  in,  it's  right  this 
minute.  I  don't  believe  I  could  foot  it  another 
mile  with  a  gun  p'inted  at  my  head." 

This  speech  was  greeted  by  a  laugh,  a  short 
wheezy  laugh  and  answered  by  a  deep  wheezy 
voice  in  an  unmistakable  German  accent.  "  I 
tink  you  never  valked  so  far,  maybe.  You  vest- 
erners  are  on  the  back  of  a  horse  alvay." 

"  Ye  bet  we  be  !  "  Sandy  returned. 

He  threw  his  blanket  over  his  shoulders  and  sat 
down  beside  the  blaze.  Ross  pushed  forward  a 
step  and  saw  him  plunge  his  hand  into  a  pocket 
and  bring  out  the  sheet  of  paper,  unfold  it  and 
hold  it  so  that  the  light  shone  on  it  brightly. 
The  boy  leaned  forward  so  far  that  he  nearly  lost 
his  balance.  He  caught  hastily  at  the  stout  stem 
of  a  quaking  asp  bush.  The  twigs  rustled  and 
swayed,  and  the  German  turned  sharply  toward 
the  disturbance. 

"  Vat's  dot  ?  "  he  asked. 

Sandy  looked  keenly  over  his  shoulder.  Ross 
stood  motionless,  holding  his  breath.  At  that  mo 
ment  the  underbrush  on  the  further  side  of  the  fire 
was  rudely  parted  and  a  hobbled  horse  made  its 
way  slowly  toward  the  stream.  The  animal 
seemed  to  answer  the  stranger's  question,  for  he  sat 
down  beside  Sandy  with  no  further  comment,  while 
the  latter  turned  his  attention  to  the  letter.  Ross 

321 


ROSS    GRANT 

took  care  to  plant  his  feet  more  solidly  and  grasp 
the  sapling  firmly  before  leaning  forward  again. 

"  How  ist  it,"  asked  the  German  curiously,  "  dot 
you  haf  dot  letter?" 

Sandy  pushed  his  sombrero  back  comfortably  on 
his  head  and  answered  quickly  :  "  Oh,  yes,  I  told 
ye  I'd  explain  things  when  I  got  time,  didn't  I  ?  " 

"  Ja,"  affirmed  the  German,  throwing  fresh  fuel 
on  the  fire.  "  Dot  you  said." 

"  Wall,  Breitrnann,  it's  like  this."  Suddenly  he 
hesitated  and  then  asked  cautiously,  "  But  see 
there  !  Nick  Page  was  down  t'  the  Lazy  Y  the 
other  day.  Didn't  he  tell  ye  nothin'  ?  " 

"  Ach  !  Dot  monkey  !  "  the  other  returned. 
"  Nein,  I  see  him  nicht." 

Sandy  lay  back  restfully,  his  head  pillowed  on 
the  crown  of  the  sombrero.  He  had  a  clear  field 
for  his  invention. 

"  Ye  see,  Breitmann,  this  man  Fred  Holzworth 
was  a  pard  of  mine.  Savvy  that  ?  " 

"  Vat?  "  asked  the  other  in  a  bewildered  tone. 

"  Savvy,"  repeated  Sandy.  "  D'ye  ketch  on — 

that Oh,  th'  nation  !  D'ye  know  what  I'm 

say  in'  ?  Fred  and  me  was — was  pardners." 

"  The  liar  !  "  said  Ross  indignantly  to  himself. 

"  Ach,  ja  !  "  exclaimed  Breitmann.  "  Fred  vas 
like  ein  brudder  ?  Ja." 

"That's  the  stuff,"  approved  Sandy.  "Say! 

322 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Seem'  ye're  up  and  I'm  down  and  jest  about  out — 
sail  a  few  more  sticks  onto  that  blaze,  will  ye  ?  " 

His  gestures  eked  out  his  meaning,  and  Breit- 
mann  mended  the  fire  again. 

"  Wall,"  Sandy  went  on  sleepily,  cracking  the 
paper  he  still  held,  "  after  this  here  Fred  had 
cashed  in — savvy  ?  about  t'  pass  in  his  checks,  that 
means — Lucky  Frace  was  with  'im  and  must  have 
got  a-holt  of  the  idee  that's  in  this  letter.  So  when 
Hans  struck  the  trail  up  t'  the  Pass  and  got  hurt 
there  what  does  this  Lucky  up  and  do  but  take 
the  letter  and  hike  out  t'  find  Fred's  cache  and 
steal  it.  And  then  what  does  me  and  Mart  do  but 
trail  'im  over  t'  the  Horn  and  rope  in  this  letter 
and  leave  'im  in  the  dark  about  it." 

The  German  moved  uneasily,  staring  attentively 
at  Sandy,  his  face  bearing  a  bewildered  expression. 

"  It's  about  as  clear  's  mud  t'  ye,  ain't  it?  "  the 
latter  asked. 

Breitmann  shook  his  head  in  perplexity.  "  Dere 
is  one  Lucky  Frace  a  tief  ?  " 

"  Right.     Draw  again." 

"Vat?" 

"  Oh,  shucks  !  "  sighed  Sandy.  "  When  be  ye 
goin'  t'  git  hold  of  a  little  good  English  ?  Ye 
make  my  throat  ache  tryiri'  t'  suit  my  lingo  t'  ye. 
I  mean — well,  never  mind  what  I  mean.  I'm 
goin'  t'  dodge  Lucky  Frace  and  keep  'im  from 

323 


ROSS    GRANT 

runnin'  off  with  Hans'  gold,  that's  what  I'm  goin1 
t'  do,  Breitmann." 

"How  you  do  dot?" 

Ross  stretched  his  neck  and  listened  until  his 
ears  rang. 

Sandy  hummed  a  little  tune.  "  Oh,  I'm  goin'  t' 
pack  that  ore  t'  a  new  cache  where  it  won't  git 
mixed  up  with  Lucky  Frace  agin.  Then,  when 
Hans  is  all  t'  the  good  I'm  goin'  t'  turn  that  cache 
over  t'  'im,  of  course,  neck  and  heels  1  " 

"  Yes,"  thought  Ross  sarcastically,  "  of  course 
you  will ! " 

" '  Neck  and  heels,'"  repeated  Breitmann  wonder- 
ingly. 

Sandy  sat  up  and  fanned  himself  vigorously  with 
the  letter.  "  Oh,  the  nation  !  Ye  brought  yer 
head  along,  Breitmann,  but  ye  left  yer  under- 
standin'  behind !  Here — never  mind.  Freeze  t' 
this  letter  and  read  it  t'  me  agin." 

Ross  again  nearly  lost  his  balance  in  his  excite 
ment.  Was  it  possible  that  such  good  fortune  was 
to  be  his  ?  Was  he  going  to  get  hold  of  the  loca 
tion  of  the  cache  without  going  on  to  Hans  ?  He 
would  start  back  that  night,  he  decided,  and  travel 
as  long  as  his  mount  could  pick  out  the  trail.  He 
would  beat  Sandy  back  to  the  Horn  and  the  free 
gold.  For  once  Sandy  would  be  foiled  and  he, 
Ross,  who  had  a  heavy  score  to  settle  with  Sandy, 

324 


GOLD  HUNTER 

would  have  settled  it  He  bent  forward  and  lis 
tened  with  all  his  might. 

The  two  before  the  fire  sat  with  their  backs 
toward  him.  He  had  been  able  to  hear  perfectly 
before  this,  because  Sandy,  under  the  impression 
that  Breitmann  could  be  made  to  understand  if  he 
were  yelled  at,  had  raised  his  voice  while  his  com 
panion  had  unconsciously  matched  his  voice  in 
pitch.  But  now  Breitmann,  leaning  toward  the 
fire,  and  reading  slowly,  hesitating  as  he  translated 
the  lines  into  such  English  as  he  could  command, 
lowered  his  voice  to  its  natural  key,  so  that  Ross, 
to  his  dismay,  found  himself  catching  only  an  oc 
casional  word  or  phrase. 

"  Dear  Brudder,"  he  heard,  "  die  in  short  time — 
leave  ein  little  mit  you — map  of  path  in  oder  side 
— dree,  four  tousand  dollar — hide  in — in — in — 
in "  here  the  reader  hesitated. 

Ross  held  his  breath.  "  One  word,"  he  thought, 
"  and  I  have  it." 

"  In — in,"  Breitmann  repeated.  "  Dot  vord  in 
English " 

He  hesitated  and  turned  his  head  toward  Sandy. 
Ross's  heart  pounded  the  blood  through  his  ears 
until  it  fairly  deafened  him.  He  held  his  breath 
and  stepped  forward  carefully  into  the  open  in  his 
efforts  to  hear  what  Sandy  would  supply. 

But  Sandy  remained  silent.  He  sat  up  and 

325 


ROSS    GRANT 

clasped  his  hands  around  his  knees  and  stared  into 
i  he  tire  until  aroused  by  his  companion's  repetition 
•  »'f  "  Dot  vord  in  English  ?  "  Then  he  shook  him 
self  impatiently.  "  Yes,  yes,  I  know  where  it  is. 
Goon  ! " 

But  before  Breitmann  could  continue,  Sandy  ex 
claimed  abstractedly,  "  Whatever  possessed  the 
man  to  cache  it  there  ?  " 

The  other  lowered  the  letter.     "  Vy  not  ?  " 

Sandy  drew  the  blanket  around  his  shoulders, 

and   repeated,   "Why    not?     Why    because " 

He  stopped  and  added  vaguely,  "  Oh — because — 
you'll  find  out  to-morrow — nothing.  Go  on  with 
the  letter." 

Ross's  heart  sank  and  he  caught  his  breath  gasp 
ingly.  The  point  was  passed  over  and  he  had  lost 
it  I  Breitmann  went  on  reading,  but  the  boy  did 
not  catch  a  word  until  the  last  paragraph  was 
reached,  and  then  he  understood  only  the  one  word 
that  he  already  had  seen  there  and  recognized — the 
name  of  Dad  Page. 

"  Huh  !  "  commented  Sandy.  "  Owes  Dad  a 
thousand,  does  he  ?  Wall,  they's  such  a  thing  as 
keepin'  on  owin' ! "  with  a  chuckle.  "  I  hain't 
hikin'  over  the  country  handin'  out  plunks 
to " 

" '  Plunks/  "  repeated  the  other  wonderingly. 
"Vasist?" 

326 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Sandy  groaned.  "  Man,  can't  you  take  in  a 
darned  thing  that's  said  in  plain  English  ?  What 
should  plunks  be  but  jest — w&l],  plunks  t  MebBe 
you've  heard  'em  called  dollars.  If  so,  well  and 
good.  Call  'em  what  ye  like,  but  let  me  git  a 
snooze  ready  fer  th'  day's  liftin'  to-morrer.  I'm 
afraid,  though,  after  my  long  foot-hike,  that  come 
morniri'  ye'll  have  t'  go  after  a  derrick  and  hist  me 
t'  the  boss's  back." 

Sandy  tossed  his  hat  one  side  and  rolled  himself 
up  in  his  blanket  with  his  feet  to  the  fire.  "  Chuck 
on  more  wood,  Breitmann,  and  turn  in." 

After  the  German  had  fed  the  fire  and  rolled 
himself  up  in  his  blanket,  Sandy  raised  his  head 
and  regarded  his  companion  with  a  grin.  "  I  say, 
Breitmann,  don't  let  my  generosity  with  this  here 
Hans  keep  ye  awake  o'  nights.  I'm  s'  full  of  what 
some  fool  feller  called  the  '  milk  o'  kindness '  that 
it  jest  naturally  oozes  out  o'  my  pores.  Ask  any 
one  in  Big  Horn  County,  Breitmann,  and  they'll 
tell  ye  the  same  yarn  !  " 

With  another  chuckle,  Sandy  rolled  over  adding 
comfortably,  "  Now  rope  yer  snores  and  be  up  by 
daylight." 

"  By  all  that,"  thought  Ross,  "  it's  evident  that 
this  Breitmann  is  a  stranger  here,  or  he'd  know  all 
about  Sandy's  '  milk  of  human  kindness  '  to  begin 
with — and  call  it  by  its  right  name — vinegar  I " 

327 


ROSS    GRANT 

Quietly  the  boy  waited  until  the  two  figures  be 
side  the  fire  lay  motionless,  and  the  silence  of  the 
camp  was  broken  only  by  the  snapping  of  the  flames 
and  the  restless  movements  of  the  horses  the  other 
side  of  the  valley.  Then  he  slowly  made  his  way 
back  to  his  own  horse,  his  thoughts  in  a  turmoil. 
It  was  clear  that  Sandy  had  made  a  forced  journey 
to  the  valley,  gathered  up  those  packhorses,  and 
with  Breitmann  to  help  with  the  work,  come  back 
hotfooted  to  carry  away  the  ore,  believing  that 
Lucky  and  Ross  were  still  trailing  Waymart,  as 
they  would  have  been  doing  but  for  the  fortunate 
incident  of  the  landslide. 

"  There's  no  mistaking  the  object  of  all  those 
bags  and  packhorses,"  muttered  Ross  when  he 
reached  his  own  horse  again. 

Here  he  stood  irresolute.  What  should  he  do  ? 
Where  should  he  spend  the  night  ?  Should  he  go 
back  to  Lucky  or  go  on?  If  he  went  on  Sandy 
and  Breitmann  would  reach  the  Horn  far  in  ad 
vance.  If  he  went  back  still  ignorant  of  the  cache, 
of  what  service  could  he  be  ?  He  would  tell  Lucky 
what  he  had  overheard  and — here  Ross  shook  his 
head  as  he  recalled  Lucky's  expression  in  the  cabin 
before  they  set  out  after  the  McKenzies,  and  Lucky 
had  taken  down  his  gun.  Ross  did  not  like  to 
think  of  the  possible  results  of  telling  Lucky  what 
he  had  overheard.  Besides,  Sandy  had  outwitted 

328 


GOLD    HUNTER 

them  before — why  not  again,  despite  either  force 
or  vigilance,  since  they  were  ignorant  of  what  he 
knew,  namely,  the  location  of  the  ore. 

No,  he  decided,  it  would  be  best  for  him  to  push 
on  to  the  Pass  and  leave  Sandy  and  Breitmann  to 
journey  first  to  the  Horn.  Dad  and  Nicholas 
would  be  with  Lucky,  who  would  be  looking  for 
Sandy's  return,  although  not  so  soon  as  the  morrow. 

"  But  twelve  horses  and  two  men  can't  be  pound 
ing  around  in  the  neighborhood  of  Sheep's  Horn 
and  Nick  not  hear  'em,1'  was  Ross's  conclusion. 

A  sound  suddenly  interrupted  the  boy's  thoughts. 
It  came  from  the  trail  high  up  the  mountainside, 
and  was  so  faint  that  only  the  stillness  of  the  early 
night  betrayed  it.  The  coyotes  had  not  begun 
their  concert  yet,  and  the  wind  had  died  away. 
Ross,  imitative  of  the  Monkey,  lay  down  and 
pressed  his  ear  to  the  ground.  At  once  the  sound 
resolved  itself  into  the  hoof  beats  of  an  advancing 
horse.  Instantly  he  was  on  his  feet  again.  Lead 
ing  his  own  pony  back  further  among  the  bushes 
he  tied  it  to  a  tree,  and  then  hurried  up  the  trail 
to  meet  the  horseman,  under  the  strong  impression 
that  he  was  on  his  way  to  meet  Lucky.  It  was 
not  until  the  outlines  of  the  approaching  horse 
showed  dimly  through  the  deep  twilight  that  he 
thought  of  Way  mart.  This  valley  might  be  the 
place  appointed  by  Sandy  for  a  meeting.  The 

329 


ROSS    GRANT 

thought  caused  Ross  to  jump  hastily  aside  and 
seek  the  shelter  of  a  dense  sage-brush  close  beside 
the  trail.  Crouching  low,  he  parted  the  branches 
and  peered  out  in  a  vain  attempt  to  see  the  rider 
before  the  horse  came  abreast  of  the  bush.  The 
animal  came  on  slowly,  sliding  down  the  steep 
trail  or  picking  its  way  carefully  among  the  stones. 

Not  until  its  head  was  almost  against  the  sage 
brush  did  Ross  recognize  the  rider.  He  leaped 
out  instantly,  saying  in  a  low  but  joyful  tone : 

"  Sh,  Nick,  don't  speak  loud  !  Tell  you  what, 
I'm  about  as  glad  to  see  you  as  I  ever  was  to  see 
any  one ! " 


330 


CHAPTER  XVI 

"  CAPTAIN    HEAD-ON-YOU  " 

THE  spotted  pony,  bunching  its  feet  together  to 
overcome  its  downward  momentum,  came  to  an 
abrupt  stop.  Nicholas,  his  moccasined  feet  deftly 
clamped  against  the  horse's  withers,  exclaimed  in 
an  excited  whisper  : 

"  Doc,  is  it  bears,  or  outlaws,  or  what  ?  " 

Ross  went  close  to  the  side  of  the  pony.  "  It's 
worse  than  bears  or  outlaws.  It's  Sandy  McKenzie 
with  packhorses.  He's  after  the  free  gold  and 
knows  where  it  is.  He  has  the  letter  and  has  had 
it  read.  But  you  don't  know  about  the  letter " 

The  Monkey  dismounted  and  turned  his  pony 
across  the  trail  where  the  animal  could  stand 
easily. 

"  Yes,  I  do  know  about  the  loss  of  the  letter  and 
your  hike,  yours  and  Lucky's." 

"  Then  you've  seen  Lucky  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  went  over  to  the  Horn  to  stay,  while 
Dad  struck  out  for  Meeteetse  by  way  of  Wind 
River  and " 

Ross  interrupted  in  a  dismayed  tone.  "  And 
there  I  was  counting  on  Dad's  being  at  the  Horn 


ROSS    GRANT 

with  Lucky  to  meet  Sandy  !     And  Lucky  counted 
on  him,  too." 

"  Wish  he  was  there,"  whispered  Nicholas  sym 
pathetically.  "  But  as  long  as  there  was  no  sign 
of  old  man  Clark  coming  home,  Dad  felt  he  must 
light  out  after  him  before  the  subpoena  got  to  be 
such  an  old  story  that  Clark  had  heard  all  about 
it  and  could  get  away  from  it.  So  I  came  on  over 
to  be  with  you  at  the  Horn,  and  you  weren't  there. 
I  read  your  note  and  hung  around  overnight  and 
then  struck  out  for  the  Pass.  I  run  onto  Lucky 
after  you  got  a  couple  of  hours  the  start  of  me,  but 
after  Lucky  told  me  what  was  in  the  wind,  I  came 
on  fast,  thinking  that  Sandy  might  know  about 
the  new  man  at  the  U  Ranch.  He's  a  German, 
and " 

"  He's  the  man — wheezes  when  he  talks." 

"  You  bet !  "  returned  Nicholas.  "  Is  he  with 
Sandy  ?  " 

Hastily  Ross  related  what  he  had  heard  beside 
the  camp-fire. 

"  The  rascal !  "  exclaimed  Nicholas  indignantly 
when  the  story  was  told.  "  Sandy  ought  to  be  run 
out  of  Wyoming."  Then,  after  a  pause,  he  added 
in  a  curiously  altered  voice,  "  Say,  Doc,  ain't  it 
sorta  queer — his  story  is  about  the  same  as  Lucky 
told  us — Dad  and  me — you  remember  ?  when  we 

went  over  to  the  Horn " 

332 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  But  you  believe  Lucky,  and  you  don't  believe 
Sandy  !  "  Ross  cut  in  angrily,  touched  by  the  subtle 
doubt  expressed  in  the  other's  voice.  "  Lucky  is 
an  all-right  fellow,  and  Sandy  is — well,  I've  reason 
myself  to  know  that  he's  a  rascal,  and  not  an  ordi 
nary  one  either  I " 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  "  assented  the  Monkey  hastily. 
"  Don't  tear  me  into  shreds,  Doc,  right  here  !  But 
at  first  it  seemed  queer — both  were  with  Fred 
Holzworth  in  Meeteetse,  both  claim  to  be  friends 
— both  stole  the  letter " 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  it  put  that  way,"  inter 
rupted  Ross  sharply,  but  in  his  heart  he  knew  that 
any  unprejudiced  person  would  put  the  matter  ex 
actly  that  way,  and  consider  Lucky  as  guilty  as 
Sandy — if  the  former  were  not  able  to  locate  the 
hiding  place  of  the  gold  and  turn  it  over  to  its 
rightful  owner. 

This,  after  a  moment  of  constrained  silence,  he 
admitted,  adding,  "  Nick,  we've  got  to  prove  Lucky 
in  the  right  and  Sandy  in  the  wrong.  Now,  what's 
to  be  done  ?  I'd  about  decided  I'd  best  push  on  to 
the  Pass.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

Nicholas  made  no  immediate  response  to  this. 
He  stood  looking  down  and  moving  a  small  stone 
about  with  his  toe  while  he  thought.  Finally  he 
changed  the  subject  abruptly.  "  See  here,  Doc ! 
I  haven't  tasted  grub  since  noon.  You're  a  regular 

333 


ROSS    GRANT 

hustler  on  the  trail,  for  a  tenderfoot,  and  I've  had 
to  hurry  to  catch  up.  Where's  your  camp?  " 

Ross  gave  a  rueful  laugh.  "  Haven't  made  any. 
I  can't  build  a  fire,  or  it  would  betray  me  just  as 
Sandy's  did  him.  My  horse  is  tied  down  here  be 
side  the  trail  out  of  sight.  But  while  you're  talk 
ing — I'm  hungry,  too  1  " 

"  Let's  eat  first,"  suggested  Nicholas,  "  and  think 
afterward.  That's  Dad's  one  rule  for  the  trail." 

"  Guess  that's  Lucky's,  too,"  added  Ross.  "  I've 
heard  him  say  that  once  or  twice." 

Leaving  his  horse,  Nicholas,  taking  the  lead, 
searched  out  a  level  spot  in  the  lee  of  a  large  rock, 
and  after  reconnoitering  along  the  mountainside 
until  he  found  the  exact  location  of  the  other  camp- 
fire,  persuaded  the  doubting  Ross  that  they  could 
build  a  smart  fire  under  the  projection  of  the  rock 
near  the  spotted  pony  and  cook  a  supper  in  safety 
— and  in  safety  talk  in  natural  tones. 

"  The  wind  is  in  our  direction,  so  they  won't  get 
our  smoke,"  Nicholas  argued.  "  And  a  pine  wood 
fire  big  enough  to  boil  some  coffee  and  fry  some 
bacon  wouldn't  be  seen  because  the  forest  around 
here  is  thick — and  what's  more,  they  are  probably 
sound  asleep." 

Thus  persuaded,  Ross  brought  up  his  own  sup 
plies,  and  leaving  his  horse  securely  tied,  helped 
with  the  fire  and  food,  doing  his  full  share  also 

334 


GOLD    HUNTER 

later  when  the  two  sat  eating  beside  the  blaze,  the 
Monkey  cross-legged  and  doubled  up  in  a  supple 
way  that  was  Ross's  envy.  His  larger  bones  and 
stiffer  joints  would  not  permit  of  such  a  position  as 
that. 

Finally  Ross  drained  his  cup  and  set  it  down 
beside  the  coffee-pot. 

"  Would  it  do  any  good  for  you  to  get  at 
this  Breitmann  and  tell  him  what  sort  of  an 
errand  he's  on?"  asked  Ross  slowly  as  he  drank 
his  coffee. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  good/'  scoffed  Nicholas.  "  You 
see,  Breitmann  is  just  one  of  the  horse  wranglers 
at  the  U  Ranch,  and  it's  his  business  to  take  out 
the  freight  broncs  and  go  to  any  place  where  they're 
called  for.  Guess  you  ain't  acquainted  with  the 
business  of  the  freighting  here,  are  you  ?  " 

Ross  shook  his  head.  "  Haven't  had  a  chance 
to  be.  My  business  all  winter  has  been  to  cool  my 
heels  and  kill  time  some  distance  away  from  any 
business — thanks  to  Sandy  McKenzie  !  " 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  Nicholas,  "  the  U  Ranch  keeps 
a  bunch  of  bronchos  and  rents  'em  for  freighting 
purposes.  They're  rented  either  to  pack  outfits  or 
wagon  service.  Lucky's  packhorse  came  from  the 
U  Ranch,  and  I  noticed  a  U  brand  on  both  Trig's 
and  Tod's  packhorses.  Now,  of  course,  I'd  be 
talking  to  the  wind  to  tell  Breitmann  to  go  below 

335 


ROSS    GRANT 

and  mind  his  own  business,  because  he  is  minding 
it.  He's  been  sent  out  with  the  horses,  and  it's  none 
of  his  business  on  what  errand  Sandy  is  bent,  pro 
vided  the  horses  are  paid  for.  As  for  the  owner 
of  the  U,  I  don't  suppose  he  even  asked  Sandy's 
object.  Why  should  he?  It's  all  in  a  day's  work. 
Sandy  explained  to  Breitmann,  because  Breitmann 
had  read  the  letter  and  was  curious." 

"  Yes,  you're  right,"  returned  Ross  slowly.  "  It 
would  be  time  and  words  wasted  to  speak  to  him. 
Well— what  then  ?  " 

"  Sure  enough,"  echoed  Nicholas,  "  *  what  then/ 
unless  we  do  as  you  intended — go  back  to  the  Pass 
and  tackle  Hans." 

Ross  arose  stiffly  and  stretched  himself.  He 
pushed  his  cap  to  the  back  of  his  head  and  stuff 
ing  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  frowned  down  at 
the  dying  fire.  The  Monkey,  still  doubled  up  like 
a  knife,  looked  up  at  him  hopefully.  Out  of  the 
darkness  in  front  of  him  a  red  and  cream  colored 
head  emerged  and  quivering  nostrils  investigated 
the  odors  of  the  supper.  The  spotted  pony  was 
hungry. 

"  Get  your  head  to  work,  Doc,"  Nicholas  urged, 
"  and  think  up  something  for  my  legs  to  do  !  You 
got  rid  of  the  bear — get  rid  of  Sandy." 

"  But  it  was  your  training  that  taught  me  how 
to  get  rid  of  the  bear,"  retorted  Ross.  "  If  I  could 

336 


GOLD    HUNTER 

get  rid  of  Sandy  as  easily  I'd  be  tempted  to  stick  a 
whole  pine  tree,  ablaze,  in  his  face.  As  it  is " 

Ross  came  to  a  full  stop.  He  stared  a  moment 
at  the  other  and  then  burst  into  an  exclamation  so 
shrill  and  penetrating  that  it  startled  him  into 
silence  again.  Then  he  sank  on  his  knees  close 
beside  the  younger  boy  and  in  two  minutes  had 
transferred  to  him  all  his  agitation  and  excite 
ment.  Nicholas  gave  one  bound  in  which  he  un 
coiled  himself  and  stood  on  his  feet.  Being  unable 
to  give  his  favorite  Indian  yell  of  triumph,  he  re 
lieved  himself  by  standing  on  his  head  and  waving 
his  feet  in  the  air,  ending  by  bringing  them  down 
on  the  inquiring  nose  of  the  spotted  pony,  which 
backed  precipitately  to  the  end  of  its  tether. 

During  this  performance  Ross,  still  on  his 
knees,  thought  rapidly,  for  once  paying  no  at 
tention  to  the  gymnastics  that  he  so  much  ad 
mired  in  the  other.  When  Nicholas  alighted  on 
his  feet  again  and  stood  at  mock  attention,  his 
heels  together,  his  hand  saluting,  his  face  radiant 
in  anticipation  of  desired  action,  Ross  arose,  and, 
scattering  the  embers  of  the  fire,  tramped  on  the 
last  spark. 

"  Captain  Head-on- You,  what's  the  first  move  ?  " 
asked  Nicholas. 

"  Well,  first  thing,  I'd  like  to  make  sure  that  the 
other  camp  is  just  as  I  left  it,  and  the  two  asleep." 

337 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Right-ho  !  "  exclaimed  Nicholas  joyfully. 
"Thy  henchman  goeth  !  " 

He  was  off  before  Ross  knew  he  was  gone,  melt 
ing  silently  into  the  shadows  that  marked  the 
border-land  of  darkness.  The  stars  were  begin 
ning  to  appear,  but  the  peaks  were  still  faintly 
visible,  and  the  trail  could  still  be  dimly  seen  in 
outline.  Ross  led  the  spotted  pony  down  farther 
and  had  tied  it  near  his  mount  and  stepped  out 
on  the  trail  again  when  Nicholas  returned  as 
silently  as  he  had  left,  his  softly  shod  feet  sup 
porting  so  slender  and  supple  a  frame  that,  through 
practice,  he  could  move  with  scarcely  a  crackling 
of  the  twigs. 

"  It's  Breitmann  all  right,  with  a  U  outfit/'  he 
announced.  "  I  know  the  broncs,  and  the  best 
leader  is  with  'em,  old  Shier.  I  ran  on  her  first 
thing.  Where  she  goes  the  rest  will  follow. 
We'll  get  hold  of  her  first." 

"  What  about  Sandy  ?     Is  he  asleep  ?  " 

"Asleep?  Well,  I  should  say  so!  He's  so 
much  asleep  I  wonder  he  doesn't  cause  a  stampede 
among  the  bunch.  Snores  like  a  volcano  !  " 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do? "asked  Ross. 
Having  made  the  plan  he  turned  to  the  more 
agile  and  experienced  Nicholas  to  execute  it. 

"  Leave  our  horses  where  they  are,"  commanded 
Nicholas  promptly,  "  and  you  come  down  to  the 

338 


GOLD    HUNTER 

pile   of  saddles   and  camp  out  there.     I'll  know 
where  to  find  you  then.     Leave  it  to  me  !  " 

Ross  did  as  he  was  told,  and,  sitting  down  on 
a  wooden  saddle,  awaited  developments.  The 
younger  boy  again  faded  into  the  night,  and,  for 
a  few  moments,  Ross  listened  in  vain  for  any 
sound  which  should  reveal  his  whereabouts. 
From  mountainside  to  mountainside  echoed  the 
long  mournful  cry  of  the  coyotes,  or  their  short, 
sharp  yelping.  Close  beside  him  the  wind  soughed 
through  the  pines.  Mingled  with  the  faint  tinkle 
of  the  stream  at  his  back  was  the  soft  "  munch, 
munch  "  of  the  invisible  horses.  Then,  suddenly, 
into  these  sounds  came  another  that  caused  the 
listener  to  arise  hastily.  It  was  the  regular  thud 
of  unhobbled  hoofs  approaching.  In  another  mo 
ment  Nicholas  appeared,  leading  by  its  mane  the 
pack  leader. 

Ross  noticed  that  he  had  not  taken  time  to  re 
move  the  hobble,  but  had  merely  unbuckled  one 
encircling  leg  strap  which  dangled  to  the  other 
leg.  As  the  connecting  strap  was  not  long  enough 
to  trip  the  animal,  Ross  luckily  said  nothing  about 
it,  and  after  a  hurried  consultation  led  by  Nicholas, 
who  understood  the  ways  of  packhorses  better 
than  Ross,  the  latter  led  the  unhobbled  animal 
carefully  along  the  trail  heading  to  the  Valley  of 
the  Pass  and  from  thence  to  its  home  ranch. 

339 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Lead  it  up  where  there  isn't  a  spear  of  grass — 
where  the  side  is  so  steep  that  it  can't  leave  the 
trail/'  directed  Nicholas,  "  and  then  let  it  go.  Get 
a  stick  and  give  it  a  smart  rap  on  the  flank  when 
you  send  it  on.  Then  we'll  get  the  rest,  one  by 
one,  and  send  'em  after.  We  can't  round  'em  up 
in  a  bunch  because  of  the  noise  they'd  make. 
And  we  must  be  awfully  careful  not  to  get  them 


nervous." 


Ross  led  the  leader  slowly  across  the  narrow  val 
ley  and  up  the  trail  as  Nicholas  had  directed. 
There  was  still  light  enough  lingering  to  enable 
him  to  walk  briskly  until  he  reached  the  point  in 
the  ascent  of  the  mountain  where  the  slope  fell 
away  steeply  below  and  rose  sharply  above.  Here 
he  loosened  his  hold  on  the  shaggy  mane,  stepped 
back  and  gave  the  horse  a  blow  on  its  flank  which 
brought  a  pair  of  protesting  hoofs  into  the  air 
perilously  near  the  boy's  head.  He  dodged  hastily 
and  then  retraced  his  steps  while  the  horse  climbed 
upward. 

In  the  darkened  valley  he  prowled  about  near 
the  stream  in  search  of  another  horse,  leaving  the 
Monkey  to'  bring  up  those  nearest  Sandy's  camp, 
Ross's  faith  in  the  stealthiness  of  his  own  move 
ments  being  small.  Presently,  as  he  was  unhob- 
bling  an  animal  near  the  trail,  he  heard  Nicholas 
approaching  hastily,  leading  another. 

340 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  Sh,  Doc,"  whispered  the  Monkey.  "  I  had  to 
tramp  fairly  on  Sandy's  heels  to  get  this  beast,  and 
I  woke  'im  up.  Here — hold  it  until  I  go  back  and 
scout  a  little,  will  you?  " 

Ross,  with  a  hand  in  the  manes  of  two  horses, 
allowed  them  to  crop  the  grass  to  keep  them  from 
being  restless.  In  a  few  moments  the  Monkey  was 
back  with  a  satisfactory  report. 

"  Guess  he  wasn't  alarmed  any.  He's  turned 
over  and  drawn  the  blanket  over  his  head,  but  I 
don't  believe  he's  asleep  yet.  Let's  wait  a  few 
minutes." 

The  darkness  deepened.  The  horses  became 
merely  blacker  spots  against  a  black  background. 
The  stars  appeared  brilliantly  in  a  black  sky.  The 
peaks  became  indistinguishable.  The  cries  of  the 
coyotes  grew  louder  and  more  numerous. 

Suddenly  the  Monkey,  without  warning,  threw 
himself  on  the  ground  and  pressed  his  ear  to  the 
earth.  "  Doc,"  he  whispered  excitedly,  "  Shier  is 

coming  back  on  the  run — down  the  trail " 

He  bounded  to  his  feet.  "Don't  let  those  horses 
loose.  I  must  head  her  back  again  or  she'll  play 
the  mischief.  She's  a  bundle  of  nerves." 

During  the  next  half  hour  Ross  felt  like  a 
bundle  of  nerves  himself.  He  stood  with  the  two 
animals  while  Nicholas  ran  beyond  the  foot  of  the 
opposite  mountain.  It  was  too  late.  In  a  mo- 

34i 


ROSS    GRANT 

ment  Ross  heard  the  thud  of  galloping  hoofs,  and 
a  loud  snort  that  caused  the  horses  beside  him  to 
start  and  cease  grazing.  He  felt  the  ripple  of 
excitement  that  passed  through  their  muscles  as 
the  snort  was  repeated,  and  a  *low  neigh.  Then 
the  sound  of  the  flying  hoofs  was  deflected  toward 
the  right,  and  Ross  could  not  suppress  an  exclama 
tion  of  dismay.  "  It's  going  straight  toward 
camp  ! "  he  muttered,  "  and  Sandy  not  asleep  I 
There  goes  my  nice  little  plan." 

In  a  moment  all  was  confusion  in  the  direction 
of  the  camp.  Voices  rang  out  across  the  valley,  and 
the  thud  of  hoofs  sounded  louder.  Shier  had 
whirled  and  was  coming  toward  Ross  followed, 
evidently,  by  the  voices. 

"  The  nation  ! "  he  heard  Sandy  say  in  an 
irritated  tone.  "  What's  broken  loose  ?  Didn't  ye 
hobble  all  them  mavericks  when  ye  turned  'em 
out  ?  " 

Suddenly  Ross  backed  the  horses  he  was  hold 
ing  almost  into  the  stream,  and,  stepping  out  to 
the  trail,  caught  the  mane  of  the  leader  as  she 
broke  through  the  bushes.  Holding  her  firmly  he 
rubbed  her  neck  soothingly  and  patted  her  fore 
head  gently,  listening  to  the  approaching  men. 

"  Ja ! "  answered  Daisy's  disgusting  voice. 
"  Dot  I  did.  It's  dot  old  leader " 

Here  Ross  hastily  stepped  back  and  took  refuge 

342 


GOLD    HUNTER 

behind  a  sage-brush  and  held  his  breath.  The 
leader,  soothed  by  his  caresses,  started  forward  at  a 
walk  which  allowed  Breitmann  to  lay  his  hand  at 
once  on  her  neck  as  he  and  Sandy  reached  the 
trail.  The  ranchman  hastily  ran  his  hand  down 
the  horse's  fore  legs  and  gave  an  exclamation  of 
relief. 

"  Vat  I  tell  you  ?  "  he  said  triumphantly.     "  Die 
hobble  ist  on.     It  ist  broke.     Dot  makes  all  dis 


noise." 


A  match  flared  out  in  the  darkness  and  Sandy 
stooped  to  look,  while  Ross  clung  dizzily  to  the  bush 
and  tried  not  to  breathe,  so  near  was  Sandy. 

"  Broke  !  "  reiterated  Sandy.  "  Broke  ?  Wall, 
it  ain't  I  Ye  never  buckled  that  side  at  all !  " 

He  flung  the  match  from  him  and  turned  back. 
"  Fix  it  t'  stay  put  this  time.  I  don't  want  t'  be 
got  up  agin  'til  it's  time  t7  strike  th'  trail. 
That'll  come  soon  enough  fer  my  bones.  Every 
one  on  'em  aches  worse'n  its  neighbor  now  !  " 

With  unutterable  relief  Ross  heard  the  two  de 
part,  and  their  voices  became  fainter  and  fainter 
until  they  ceased  altogether.  Then,  with  an  in 
troductory  "  Sh  !  "  Nicholas  touched  Ross's  arm. 

"  A  close  call  that,  Doc,  eh  ?  I  reached  the  foot 
of  the  mountain  too  late  to  catch  Shier,  but  just  in 
time  to  turn  'er  in  the  wrong  direction.  Now 
we've  got  to  wait  a  while." 

343 


ROSS    GRANT 

They  waited  until  Sandy  and  Daisy  were  again 
asleep  and  then,  once  more,  Ross  led  old  Shier 
over  the  trail,  but  with  orders  to  "  stand  by  "  when 
he  let  her  go  and  prevent  her  from  returning,  and 
also  to  receive  each  horse  as  Nicholas  brought  it 
up  and  send  it  after  the  leader.  This  plan  he  car 
ried  out,  and  when  Nicholas  finally  led  up  the  last 
horse,  both  boys  sighed  in  relief. 

"  Now,"  said  Ross,  "  there's  our  own  horses  to 
get.  Then  we'll  follow." 

"  Don't  you  stir  !  "  Nicholas  ordered.  "  Stay 
right  on  your  job  here  and  I'll  bring  up  our  ponies." 

"  All  right,  Nick.  My  heart  won't  steady  down 
to  doing  natural  work  until  we  are  mounted  and 
off.  It  has  done  nothing  but  jump  and  fall  over 
itself  for  two  hours  I  " 

"  Same  here,  only  more  so,"  confessed  Nicholas. 
"  Mine  has  been  balancing  itself  on  a  tight  rope  I  " 

It  was  midnight  before  the  two  were  mounted 
and  had  started  after  the  pack  animals  that  could 
be  heard — but  not  seen — rattling  the  stones  on  the 
trail  ahead. 

"  Don't  try  to  guide  your  horse,  Doc,"  advised 
Nicholas.  "  Give  him  his  head  and  he'll  take  care 
of  his  heels." 

Ross,  straining  his  eyes  in  vain  to  see  the  trail, 
loosened  the  bridle  reins  and  shuddered  as  he 
thought  of  the  long  steep  slope  only  a  few  inches 

344 


GOLD    HUNTER 

away — unseen  inches.  His  horse  felt  its  way 
slowly,  carefully,  often  putting  out  a  foot  twice 
before  planting  it,  and  moving  with  painful  slow 
ness,  they  reached  the  top  of  the  mountain. 

"  Nick,  how  long  have  we  got  to  keep  this  up?  " 
asked  Ross  finally  through  clinched  teeth. 

"  The  horses  are  all  headed  toward  home," 
Nicholas  told  him  grimly,  "  and  they'll  keep  on 
going  until  they  think  it's  time  to  stop;  and  just 
so  long  we  better  stick  to  the  saddle." 

The  animals  considered  it  time  to  stop  in  the 
valley  at  the  foot  of  Indian  Ledge,  where  they 
found  grass  and  water.  Ross,  remembering  the 
perils  of  that  mountain,  drew  a  long  breath  of  re 
lief,  and  dismounted.  Taking  his  blankets  from 
behind  his  saddle,  he  lay  down.  Striking  a  match, 
he  examined  his  watch. 

"  One  o'clock,"  he  muttered.  "  It  gets  light  at 
three." 

"  Yep,"  returned  Nicholas  briskly.  The  younger 
boy,  accustomed  to  the  saddle  and  the  mountains, 
was  far  from  exhausted.  "  Say  !  This  is  the  place 
where  you  met  up  with  the  bear." 

"  Huh-uh,"  assented  Ross  sleepily.  "  He's  over 
there  yet,  I  expect.  Well,  bears  are  welcome  to 
walk  all  over  me  to-night !  "  And  he  was  asleep 
in  a  moment,  not  caring  whether  or  not  Nicholas 
built  a  protecting  fire. 

345 


ROSS    GRANT 

Despite  his  weariness,  three  o'clock  and  the 
dawn  of  day  found  him  awake  and  looking  for 
the  horses.  They  had  all  disappeared  except  his 
mount  and  Nick's,  which  were  hobbled.  In  alarm 
he  awakened  Nicholas  and  ran  back  on  the  trail. 
It  was  marked  liberally  with  hoof  prints,  but  all 
were  headed  for  the  valley. 

"  What're  you  up  to  ?  "  shouted  Nicholas,  sitting 
up,  his  blanket  still  about  him. 

"  The  horses  are  all  gone — can  it  be  they've  gone 
back  to  Sandy  ?  " 

"  Never ! "  returned  Nicholas,  casting  off  his 
blanket.  "  Not  because  he  isn't  fit  company,  but 
because  home  is  in  the  other  direction.  Shier 
went  back  last  night  because  she  found  the  other 
horses  weren't  at  her  heels  as  they  ought  to  be.  Now 
let's  get  a  mouthful  of  grub,  and  I'll  prove  I'm  right." 

He  was  right.  The  animals  had  evidently  gone 
on  at  the  first  break  of  day  and  at  eight  o'clock 
when  the  boys  reached  the  Valley  of  the  Pass 
their  ponies'  hoof  prints  were  lost  in  a  multitude 
of  other  tracks  that  showed  distinctly  in  the  sandy 
deposit  beside  the  stream. 

"  Here  you  see  'em  !  "  yelled  the  Monkey  over 
his  shoulder  as  he  pointed  downward.  "  The 
whole  bunch  has  gone  through  here." 

"  Right,  too  !  "  shouted  Ross.  "  Now  for  Hans 
and  the  cache  !  " 

346 


GOLD    HUNTER 

As  his  horse  pushed  through  the  willows  at  the 
entrance  to  the  Valley  of  the  Pass,  Ross  felt  that 
he  was  coming  home.  He  snatched  off  his  hat 
and  waved  it  at  the  twin  shacks  in  the  center  of 
the  valley.  Out  of  Tod's  issued  a  black  smoke 
which  told  of  the  presence  of  some  one  within. 

"  Hi  there ! "  he  yelled,  his  hat  sweeping  in 
frantic  circles  above  his  head. 

His  call  met  with  an  instant  response. 

"  Hi  yourself!  "  shouted  Tod. 

He  stood  at  the  open  door,  waving  the  bread 
pan.  Over  his  shoulder  appeared  Hans,  still  pale, 
but  with  both  far-sighted  eyes  visible  and  only  a 
strip  of  adhesive  plaster  on  his  cheek.  Tod,  hold 
ing  up  the  tin  pan  and  thumping  on  the  bottom, 
came  forward  with  a  heavy,  awkward  skip,  grin 
ning  from  ear  to  ear.  Hans,  also  grinning,  a 
one-sided  grin  on  account  of  the  plaster,  stood  in 
the  doorway  and  waited. 

"  I  say,  Doc,"  yelled  Tod,  "  are  you  boys  respon 
sible  for  that  round-up  of  bronchos  that  dilly 
dallied  past  here  this  mornin'  and  woke  us  up?" 

"  Guess  we  are,  and  I'm  glad  to  hear  that  they 
did  go  past." 

Tod  ceased  to  drum  on  his  pan.  "  They  hiked 
'er  past  with  their  hobble  straps  hangin'  to  one  leg  J 
Say,  boys,  you've  got  me  guessin'.  That  same 
outfit  of  beasts,  plus  pack-saddles,  and  escorted  by 

347 


ROSS    GRANT 

Sandy  McKenzie  and  one  called  Daisy  Breitmann, 
on  account  of  his  fairy  form,  went  up  the  trail 
yesterday.  I  saw  'em  when  I  come  out  on  my 
dump  up  at  the  tunnel.  Sandy  pushed  through 
as  if  he  had  a  special  delivery  stamp  on  'im. 
Didn't  stop  to  say  so  much  as  '  Howdy  '  here.  I 
wondered  what  deviltry  he  was  up  to." 

"  We  can  tell  you  soon  enough,"  said  Ross. 

He  slid  out  of  his  saddle  with  difficulty,  lame 
and  stiff  from  his  journey,  but  the  Monkey,  as 
much  at  home  on  horseback  as  on  foot,  leaped 
nimbly  from  the  spotted  pony. 

Both  boys,  as  they  unsaddled,  eagerly  but  briefly 
related  the  events  that  had  crowded  closely  to 
gether  since  he  left  the  Pass,  Tod  keeping  up  a 
running  fire  of  comment. 

"  Sunshine  on  a  field-glass ! — I  did  forget  that 
canon,  and  that's  sure  enough ! — Good  old  Lucky ! — 
A  landslide  forever — hurray  ! — Only  Mart?  That's 
a  McKenzie  trick.  They're  deep  ones  !  " 

But,  when  Ross  arrived  at  the  episode  of  the 
packhorses,  Tod's  joy  was  unbounded.  He  banged 
the  pan  on  the  stones,  and  howled.  He  jumped 
up,  and  kicked  his  heels  together.  He  gave  Ross 
a  blow  between  the  shoulders  that  nearly  knocked 
him  down.  He  seized  the  lighter  boy  and  swung 
him  squirming  off  his  feet. 

Above  this  confusion  Ross  raised  his  voice  with 

348 


GOLD    HUNTER 

difficulty.  "  Now,"  he  explained,  "  the  first  thing 
I'm  going  to  try  to  do  is  to  explain  things  to  Hans 
and  get  him  to  tell  me  where  the  free  gold  is 
hidden." 

"  Good  I  "  commented  Tod.  "  And,  while  you're 
talking,  I've  found  Hans  right  social.  We  talk  in 
signs  and  motions.  We  act  out  questions  and  an 
swers.  It's  as  exciting  as  an  Omaha  stock  com 
pany  performance." 

"  Go  ahead  with  Hans,"  encouraged  Nicholas, 
"and  we'll  keep  still — or  try  to." 

"Still!"  shouted  Tod.  "Nonsense!  Doc,  you 
get  into  Trig's  cabin  there  for  your  literary  duties 
and  the  Monkey  and  I'll  keep  close  in  mine — and 
not  keep  still.  I  expect  you'd  like  a  little  grub 
rustled,  a  sort  of  late  breakfast,  early  dinner  meal, 
betwixt  and  between." 

When  Ross  had  settled  down  beside  Hans  in 
Trigger's  cabin  he  was  embarrassed  by  the  sight 
of  gratitude  that  filled  Hans'  face.  "  I  wonder," 
the  boy  thought,  "  if  he  will  feel  that  way  when 
I've  told  him  about  the  letter." 

The  telling  was  a  laborious  task,  but  one  at 
which  Ross  went  immediately  while  Tod  "rustled" 
breakfast  for  the  travelers.  So  intent  was  Ross 
on  his  task  that  he  did  not  notice  the  absence  of 
Trigger.  Getting  out  his  German  dictionary,  with 
paper  and  pencil,  he  sat  down  with  Hans  to  tell 

349 


ROSS    GRANT 

him  the  story  of  the  letter.  It  was  of  necessity  an 
unsatisfactory  narrative.  Ross  strung  the  German 
words  together  with  scant  regard  to  gender  or 
mood,  but  when  Tod  summoned  him  to  eat  he 
obeyed  the  call,  satisfied  that  the  German  under 
stood  his  narrative — although  perhaps  imperfectly, 
as  far  as  he  had  progressed. 

As  the  newcomers  were  eating,  watched  by  Hans 
and  waited  on  by  Tod,  the  Monkey  voiced  a  ques 
tion  which  had  come  and  gone  amid  a  multitude 
of  thoughts  and  plans  and  doubts  that  had  run 
riot  in  Ross's  head  since  he  had  stolen  a  march  on 
Sandy's  camp  in  the  Valley  of  the  Willows. 

"  Tod,"  Nicholas  asked,  "  how  under  the  canopy 
could  Sandy  have  made  his  get-away  with  a  bunch 
of  ore?  You  can  steal  a  wad  of  money  or  a 
round-up  of  jewelry,  but  what  earthly  good  would 
it  do  to  try  to  steal  a  lot  of  ore?  How  could  he 
hope  to  keep  it  and  not  get  caught  ?  " 

Tod  indolently  supported  the  side  wall,  his  hands 
deep  in  his  pockets  :  "  Well,  sonny,  the  answer  to 
that  is  strictly  up  to  Sandy.  But  if  I  was  in  the 
stealing  business  myself  and  wanted  to  get  away 
with  a  nice  little  bunch  of  ore  under  the  circum 
stances  that  Sandy  had  put  himself  into,  I  should 
know  first  of  a  little  hiding  place  somewhere 
around  the  tens  of  thousands  of  square  miles  more 
or  less  in  these  parts  that  hasn't  a  human  boot  put 


GOLD    HUNTER 

on  'em  once  a  year  !  Then  I  should  load  up  the 
packhorses  that  you've  relieved  Sandy  of" — with 
a  quiet  chuckle — "and  just  tell  that  stupid  Breit- 
mann  to  hold  the  fort  at  the  Horn  till  I  come  back. 
Then  I  should  lose  myself  in  the  aforementioned 
square  miles  of  wilderness,  cover  my  trail,  cache 
the  ore,  take  the  horses  back  to  Breitmann  and 
clear  out."  Here  Tod  threw  out  his  hands  help 
lessly,  adding,  "  In  case  he  did  do  this  what  could 
Lucky  do  ?  " 

Ross  nodded  comprehensively.  "  Might  as  well 
try  to  locate  a  needle  in  a  haystack  as  try  to  find 
such  a  cache." 

"  Just  so,"  Tod  went  on.  "  Sandy  could  fade 
away,  and  Hans  here,  and  maybe  Lucky,  and 
maybe  you  and  the  Monkey  would  waste  a  good 
deal  of  time  hunting  for  his  cache  and  finding 
nothing.  Then  Hans  would  drift  away  penniless 
and  everybody  would  forget  everything.  Then 
Sandy  appears  up  to  Butte,  we'll  say,  with  a  few 
bags  of  ore.  Might  give  any  old  place  as  the  place 
where  he  got  it,  and  who'd  be  the  wiser  ?  He'd  get 
the  gold  extracted  and  disappear.  Next  thing 
you'd  know — only  you  wouldn't  know  it — he'd 
turn  up  down  to  Omaha  with  a  few  more  sacks  and 
take  it  to  one  of  the  stamp  mills  there,  and  who'd 
ever  know  he'd  stole  it  ?  " 

"  I  see,"  exclaimed  Nicholas  decidedly.     "  Get 


ROSS    GRANT 

back  to  Hans,  Doc,  and  find  out  where  that  gold  is 
cached.  Hurry  up  !  " 

Ross  promptly  "  got  back  "  to  his  task  once 
more.  Hans'  alarm  when  he  finally  understood 
that  the  real  letter  was  not  in  his  possession  was 
pathetic.  But  pulling  himself  together  again,  he 
strove  as  earnestly  to  understand  as  Ross  was 
striving  to  explain. 

Tod,  sitting  by  now,  with  the  Monkey  at  his  el 
bow,  both  anxious  as  to  the  outcome,  suddenly 
wiped  his  face  on  his  sleeve,  exclaiming :  "  Doc, 
here  I  am  sweating  like  a  race-horse  just  looking 
at  you  work.  This  is  worse  than  stayin'  in  the 
tunnel  all  day.  Ain't  you  most  through  ?  " 

Ross  leaned  back  wearily,  and  looked  at  his 
watch.  It  was  nearly  noon. 

"  I'm  going  to  ask  him  now  to  tell  me  where  the 
cache  is.  If  he  does  this,  part  of  the  work's 
done." 

"Well,  he  will,"  said  Tod  with  conviction. 
"  I've  gathered  from  the  remarks  that  he  don't 
make,  and  that  I  wouldn't  understand  if  he  did, 
that  he  thinks  you  helped  get  the  earth  into  shape 
and  set  it  goin' !  " 

"But  can  he  make  me  understand ?"  worried 
Ross. 

"  He  must,"  said  Todd  decidedly. 

A  few  moments  later  Hans  understood,  and  sig- 

352 


GOLD    HUNTER 

nified  his  willingness  to  answer  the  question.  If 
Ross  wanted  to  know  where  the  gold  was,  Hans 
had  faith  to  believe  that  the  knowledge  would  not 
be  betrayed.  At  first  the  latter  broke  out  into 
German,  but  checked  himself  at  the  blank  look  on 
Ross's  face.  He  shook  his  head,  took  it  between 
his  hands,  and  thought.  Then,  arising,  he  mo 
tioned  to  Ross  to  follow,  and,  going  to  a  near-by 
rock,  indicated  the  ground  beneath  it. 

Ross  shook  his  head.  To  Tod  he  said  :  "  Guess 
he  means  it's  under  a  rock,  but  that  doesn't 
simplify  matters.  There's  a  thousand  rocks 
there." 

But  Hans  was  not  done.  He  beckoned,  and 
went  into  his  cabin.  Dropping  onto  his  knees,  he 
began  to  push  and  pull  at  the  logs  under  his  bunk. 
Then  he  sat  back,  and  asked  earnestly,  "  Verstanden 
Sienicht?" 

Tod  and  Ross  and  Nicholas  looked  at  each  other 
blankly. 

"  That's  what  he  was  always  doing  when  he  was 
delirious — pushing  at  the  logs,"  Ross  muttered. 

"  Why  can't  he  take  a  turn  at  the  dictionary?  " 
demanded  Tod. 

"  Because  he  can't  see  the  words  without  glasses," 
replied  Ross. 

He  raised  the  book,  and  looked  at  it.  The  sight 
seemed  to  be  an  inspiration  to  Hans.  He  laid  a 

353 


ROSS    GRANT 

trembling  hand  on  the  book,  and  said  slowly  and 
distinctly,  "  Hohle,  die  Hohle." 

"  Die  Hohle,"  repeated  Ross  stupidly. 

"  Ja,  ja,"  cried  Hans.  He  took  hold  of  the  dic 
tionary,  and  pushed  it  against  Ross,  impatiently 
reiterating  :  "  Die  Hohle  !  Keller." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  shouted  Ross,  suddenly  enlightened. 
"  He  wants  me  to  look  up  the  word.  '  Keller '  I 
can  spell.  That  other  word  I  can't  get  hold  of." 

He  dropped  to  the  bench,  and  hastily  turned 
the  pages.  The  instant  the  English  equivalent  of 
"  Keller "  met  his  eyes,  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 
waving  the  book  under  Tod's  nose,  and  shouting : 

"  I  have  it !  I  have  it !  '  Keller '  means 
1  cellar  '  or  '  cave  ' !  There's  a  cave  under  the 
rock  against  which  the  shack  is  built,  and  it  is 
reached  by  taking  away  the  logs  under  one  of  the 
bunks — that  high  one  that  Fred  built — of  course  !  " 


354 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A  EACE  TO  THE  GOAL 

NICHOLAS  was  so  astonished  that,  for  once,  he  re 
mained  motionless.  "  Under  Holzworth's  bunk  I  " 
he  repeated.  "  Then  that  explains  its  ridiculous 
height." 

"  And  its  length,"  added  Ross,  "  and  its  back 
supports." 

"  Bunks  !  "  exclaimed  Tod.  "  Is  there  more 
than  one?  There's  been  one  there  ever  since 
Columbus  discovered  America — but  only  one." 

"  Two  now,"  interrupted  the  Monkey.  "  A  new 
one.  Holzworth  must  have  put  it  in  to  cover  the 
opening  he  made  into  the  cave — he  must  have 
made  an  entrance.  Who  knew  there  was  a  cave 
under  that  rock  before  ?  Dad  doesn't." 

"Nobody  did,"  affirmed  Tod.  "  Never  heard 
of  such  a  thing.  If  there's  one  there  Fred  ferreted 
it  out.  I  supposed  that  rock  went  clear  down  to 
China." 

"  Looks  that  way,"  assented  Ross,  "  but  see  here  ! 
There's  some  one  else  knows  now  that  it  doesn't, 
and  that's  Sandy." 

Tod  sat  down  on  the  bench,  took  one  knee 

355 


ROSS    GRANT 

between  his  hands  and  rocked  back  and  forth 
grinning.  "Sandy!"  he  cried  triumphantly. 
"  You  clipped  his  wings  when  you  took  all  his 
horses  away.  He's  helpless — more  helpless  than 
Holzworth  here." 

Hans,  his  far-sighted  eyes  boring  sharply  into 
Ross's  face,  burst  into  a  torrent  of  speech  at  the 
sound  of  his  name.  By  the  upward  slides  of  his 
voice  Ross  knew  he  was  asking  questions,  but  the 
drift  of  them  he  could  not  catch.  Besides,  there 
was  no  time  now  for  laborious  translation. 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  Tod.  "The  mess  that 
Sandy's  in  does  me  good !  It  gets  better  the  more 
I  think  of  it !  No  horses,  and  Lucky  settin'  tight 
right  in  front  of  the  hole  that  Sandy  aims  to  get 
into.  Ha  !  Ha  !  " 

"See  here,  Tod,"  remonstrated  Ross  finally, 
"  I'm  not  so  sure  about  Sandy's  helplessness.  If 
you  had  had  as  much  to  do  with  Sandy  as  I've  had, 
you'd  be  uneasy  up  to  the  moment  you  had  your 
own  hands  on  that  free  gold  and  saw  to  it  that 
Sandy's  hands  were  a  long  way  off  now.  And 
remember,  Lucky  is  alone  there,  and  Waymart  is 
coming  back.  No-sir-ee.  It's  me  for  a  fresh  horse 
and  back  again  as  fast " 

Tod  shrugged  his  fat  shoulders.  "  Doc,  the 
truth  is,  there  ain't  any  horses,  fresh  or  otherwise, 
in  the  valley." 

356 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  Why  not  ?  "  Ross  demanded  excitedly. 

Tod  ruffled  his  hair.  "  Don't  look  at  me  in 
that  tone  of  voice,  Doc  !  I  hain't  swallowed  the 
outfit.  Miners'  Camp  has.  We  got  short  on 
sticks,  and  so  Trig,  not  takin'  kindly  to  house 
keeping  as  you  know,  rounded  up  the  horses  and 
went  over  to  Miners'  after  the  dynamite,  leavin' 
me  to  be  chief  cook  and  bottle  washer  to  Hans 
here.  He  ought  to  be  back  now.  May  come  any 
minute,  but  we  can't  calculate  on  'im." 

Ross's  hands  fell  helplessly  to  his  sides.  He 
glanced  at  his  tired  mount  grazing  near  by. 
Tod's  glance  followed  his.  He  shook  his  head 
slowly  but  said  earnestly  : 

"  That  horse  is  sure  all  in,  Doc,  but  I  guess 
you're  right  about  gettin'  back  right  along.  Lucky 
ought  to  be  put  wise  to  all  this." 

"  Sandy  isn't  going  to  make  time  to-day  travel 
ing,"  remarked  the  Monkey  meditatively  ;  "  he's 
too  leg-weary." 

Tod  nodded.  He  arose  slowly,  followed  by  the 
boys'  anxious  eyes.  Thrusting  his  hands  into  his 
pockets  he  stood  staring  toward  the  rushing, 
tinkling  South  Fork.  "  When  a  man  don't  stir 
abroad  except  on  horseback,"  he  mentioned  slowly, 
"  his  feet  don't  serve  'im  well  on  the  trail.  There's 
a  chance  you'll  reach  the  Horn  now  ahead  of  him." 

4<  But  free  gold  at  the  other  end  of  the  trail  is 

357 


ROSS    GRANT 

apt  to  heal  a  man's  feet  and  make  him  forget  he's 
tired/'  Nicholas  broke  in  pessimistically.  "  I'm 
afraid  they'll  beat  us  there,  for  Doc  here  certainly 
has  ridden  his  horse  about  out." 

"  And  see  here  !  "  cried  Ross,  "  if  we  beat  him 
to  the  Horn  we  must  pass  him.  There's  only  one 
trail  from  the  Valley  of  the  Willows.  Isn't  that 
right?" 

"The  nation!"  groaned  Tod.  "I  hadn't 
thought  of  that !  "  He  scratched  his  head.  "  My 
skull  is  so  full  to  busting  now  that  that  idea  can't 
get  in  yet.  Here's  where  I  stake  you  to  some 
grub  and  boil  down  some  of  my  ideas  at  the  same 
time ! " 

Presently,  as  the  boys  saddled  up  while  Tod 
supplied  the  rations  for  the  return  journey,  he 
opened  the  subject  again,  his  ideas  having  evidently 
boiled  down  into  a  digestible  state.  "  Now,  boys, 
first,  as  to  your  passing  Sandy.  I'll  put  you  wise 
to  a  cross-lots  trail  from  the  foot  of  old  Axle  to  the 
Horn.  It's  an  old  Shoshone  Indian  foot  trail. 
No  horse  can  travel  it.  You  couldn't  make  it  on 
horseback  without  its  costin'  ye  a  neck  apiece " 

The  Monkey  immediately  felt  of  his  throat  and 
wagged  his  head  to  and  fro.  "  Thanks,  then. 
I'll  keep  mine  !  I  never  expect  to  have  another 
neck  as  good  as  the  one  I'm  wearing  right  now  I  " 

Tod  grinned.  "  But  see  here,  Monkey,  listen. 

358 


GOLD    HUNTER 

You  watch  out  for  Sandy's  trail.  You  won't  over 
take  'im  nohow  this  side  of  the  Axle.  Now  when 
you  get  pretty  near  through  the  canon  at  the  foot 
of  Axle,  you'll  reach  a  rock  as  high  again  as  Doc 
here.  The  rock  will  be  pushing  the  trail  out  fair 
into  the  creek  on  one  side  and  separatin'  it  from  a 
matter  of  a  dozen  quaking  asp  set  in  thick  together 
on  the  other  side.  There  you  stop  and  find  out 
whether  Sandy's  shoes  went  on  over  Axle  on  the 
main  trail,  or  turned  in  this  side  of  the  rock  on  the 
Indian  trail.  Then  you  act  according.  If  Sandy 
knows  of  the  Indian  trail,  he'll  take  it  for  sure, 
being  afoot.  In  that  case,  you  stick  to  the  horses 
and  the  main  trail.  But  if  he  has  kept  on  past 
Axle  in  the  bridle  trail,  you  leave  the  horses  and 
shin  it  over  the  Indian  trail.  If  this  last  happens, 
you'll  beat  him  to  the  Horn  by  six  hours.  But  if 
he  takes  the  Indian  trail  himself  and  you  the 
other,  it  will  be  neck  and  neck  which  will  come  in 
ahead,  you  on  tired  horses  or  Sandy  on  tired  feet." 

The  Monkey  beat  on  the  saddle  with  the  coffee 
pot,  while  Hans  looked  and  listened  eagerly  trying 
in  vain  to  learn  the  drift  of  the  conversation. 
"  We'll  beat  him  ! "  yelled  the  Monkey. 

"  Now  listen  again,"  commanded  Tod,  "  for, 
Monkey,  you've  got  to  learn  that  trail  by  heart. 
It's  almost  covered  over  and  lost  across  some  of  the 
peaks,  and  you'll  have  to  look  alive  to  follow  it. 

359 


ROSS    GRANT 

Put  these  directions  away  inside  your  skull  and 
I'll  try  not  to  leave  any  points  out,"  with  a  grimace 
at  Ross. 

Ten  minutes  later  he  asked :  "  Got  it,  have 
you?" 

The  Monkey  nodded.  "  I  can  just  see  old  Axle 
and  that  cross-lot  trail." 

Then  Tod  spoke  abruptly  of  Lucky.  "  Here  he 
is  hikin'  out  on  Hans'  business  and  neglectin'  his 
own.  He's  behind  in  his  work,  and  first  thing  he 
knows  his  five-year  strangle  hold  on  his  claims 
will  be  up,  and  the  legal  amount  of  work  not  done. 
Then  he  stands  to  lose  'em  and  all  the  work  he  has 
put  on  'em." 

"  Just  when  are  the  five  years  up?  "  asked  Ross 
quickly. 

"  Don't  know  the  exact  date.  In  a  few  weeks 
now,  though,  and  there's  a  two-man  job  of  work  yet 
to  do  in  his  tunnel.  Trig  and  I'd  fall  to  and  lend 
a  hand  if  either  of  us  had  an  extry  one  that  wa'n't 
full  of  our  own  work.  Poor  old  Lucky  !  Guess 
this  trip  his  luck  is  failin'  him  all  the  way  around. 
He's  too  everlastin'  ready  to  take  up  the  case  of  the 
under  dog  until  he  finds  he's  that  dog  himself!  " 

Ross  looked  up  at  the  steep  side  of  Elk  and  drew 
a  long  breath.  "  The  under  dog  !  He  may  not  be 

under    in   the   end.     Not   if  I "     His   voice 

trailed  into  a  mutter  as  he  mounted. 

360 


GOLD    HUNTER 

11  One  thing  more,  boys,"  warned  Tod  as  they 
started.  "  Don't  you  try  to  get  on  the  Indian  trail 
one  inch  this  side  of  that  rock,  or  you'll  fall  into 
trouble." 

What  that  trouble  was  Ross  left  Nicholas  to 
learn  while  he  rode  on.  When  Nicholas  joined 
him,  the  two  pushed  on  until  they  reached  the 
valley  on  the  further  side  of  Indian  Ledge.  Here 
they  met  a  weary  and  perplexed  Breitmann  trudg 
ing  back  to  the  U  Ranch  on  foot. 

"  Hello,  Daisy  !  "  shouted  the  Monkey.  "  How's 
the  walking  to-day  ?  " 

Daisy  removed  his  cap  and  scratched  his  head. 
Instead  of  answering,  he  asked  another  question. 
"Did  you  poys  meet  mit  horses  from  de  U 
Ranch?" 

"  They  are  safe  and  sound  and  at  home  by  this 
time,  Daisy,"  Nick  assured  him.  "  They  went 
through  the  Valley  of  the  Pass  with  all  their 
hobbles  hanging.  How'd  they  get  loose  ?  " 

Breitmann  smoothed  his  cap  and  frowned.  "  Dot 
vas  a  rascal  trick  by  somepody." 

The  boys,  anxious  to  push  ahead,  refrained  from 
asking  questions,  and  left  Daisy  looking  after 
them,  his  longing  for  further  conversation  written 
all  over  his  stupid,  anxious  face. 

"  Now  we  have  only  one  man  to  get  ahead  of  in 
stead  of  two,"  exclaimed  Ross  when  they  were  out 

361 


ROSS    GRANT 

of  Daisy's  hearing.  "  Let's  hurry  and  put  one 
more  over  Sandy  ! 

The  boys'  eagerness  to  put  one  more  "  over 
Sandy  "  led  to  their  pushing  forward  faster  than 
Ross's  mount  could  endure.  The  spotted  pony  led, 
and  the  other  pony,  ambitious  not  to  be  distanced, 
followed  so  closely  that  they  entered  the  Valley 
of  the  Willows  while  twilight  lingered  on  the 
peaks. 

The  Monkey  rode  forward  to  the  pile  of  wooden 
saddles  and  drew  rein.  "  Here  they  are,  Doc. 
Someway  I  half  expected  to  find  'em  gone. 
But  " — in  surprise — "  where  have  the  pack  ropes 
gone  ?  " 

"  And  where  are  the  bags  ?  "  exclaimed  Ross. 
He  threw  himself  from  his  horse  and  rushed  for 
ward.  "  Nick,  the  bags  are  all  gone,  as  well  as 
the  ropes." 

The  younger  boy  bounded  from  the  back  of  the 
spotted  pony.  "  Are  you  sure,  Doc  ?  " 

"  They  lay  here,"  Ross  declared,  pointing,  "  op 
posite  the  saddles.  That  I  know." 

Leaving  his  horse,  he  plunged  through  the 
willows  here  and  there,  searching ;  but,  although 
he  hurried  over  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
little  valley,  no  gunny  bags  appeared. 

"  Well,"  said  Nicholas  with  a  little  sigh  of 
satisfaction,  "Sandy's  made  traveling  all  the 

362 


GOLD    HUNTER 

harder  by   packing  along   a   load.     And   there's 
their  grub,  too." 

"  But,  Nick,  it  shows  that  Sandy  has  hatched 
some  new  plan.  Let's  hurry  along." 

"  Not  now,"  declared  Nicholas  firmly  ;  "  we're 
due  to  make  camp  here.  Not  another  step  can 
these  horses  go  to-night." 

Reluctantly  Ross  agreed,  and  the  boys  made 
camp  in  the  Valley  of  the  Willows.  They  built 
their  fire  on  the  ashes  of  Sandy's,  hobbled  their 
horses,  cooked  themselves  a  hot  supper,  finally 
lying  down  to  sleep,  their  blankets  around  them 
and  a  pile  of  brush  and  branches  beside  the  fire. 

"  It  doesn't  seem  to  me,"  murmured  the  Monkey 
as  he  drew  his  blanket  up  to  his  chin,  "  as  though 
I  should  wake  up  if  a  bear  sat  on  my  head  !  " 

But  Ross,  having  on  his  mind  the  idea  that 
da}'break  must  find  him  awake,  arose  at  intervals 
and  threw  fuel  on  the  flames.  Three  o'clock,  and 
the  first  peep  of  daylight  found  him  folding  up  his 
blanket  and  stretching  his  stiff  legs  wearily,  but 
he  did  not  arouse  the  younger  boy  until  he  had 
built  a  fire,  prepared  breakfast,  and  caught  and 
saddled  the  horses.  The  little  brown  sparrows 
were  chirping  about  them  sleepily,  and  the  east 
ern  peaks  were  silhouetted  against  a  faint  pink  sky 
when  at  last  Nicholas  dragged  himself  yawning  to 
his  feet. 

363 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Ugh  1 "  he  shivered.  "  What  d'ye  call  the  sea 
son  this  time  in  the  morning,  summer  or  winter  ? 
Gee  whiz !  Half-past  three !  Say,  Doc,  we'll  be 
hollow  again  before  nine." 

Ross  nodded  and  lifted  the  steaming  coffee-pot 
from  the  coals.  "  Then  we'll  eat  again.  There's 
plenty.  Tod  always  looks  out  for  plenty  of 
grub." 

"  Good  ! "  cried  Nicholas,  turning  a  few  somer 
saults  to  limber  up  his  muscles.  "  I'm  glad  he 
judges  other  people  by  himself!  " 

Before  four  o'clock  the  two  were  on  the  trail 
again,  with  the  supplies  all  packed  on  the  spotted 
pony  in  order  to  make  traveling  as  easy  as  pos 
sible  for  Ross's  mount,  which  was  too  jaded  to 
care  whether  the  Monkey's  pony  got  ahead  of  it 
or  not.  It  lagged  slowly  up  the  mountains  and 
slid  stumblingly  down  them  until  Ross  clung 
fearfully  to  the  saddle  and  eyed  the  dizzy  depths 
below  the  narrow  paths  with  increasing  appre 
hension. 

The  Monkey  had  no  saddle.  He  rode,  as  usual, 
only  on  a  blanket,  his  softly  shod  feet  clamping 
his  horse's  withers  to  prevent  his  sliding  over  its 
head  going  down  the  mountainsides,  while  his 
knees,  gripping  its  sides,  prevented  him  from  fall 
ing  over  its  tail  as  it  climbed  the  almost  perpen 
dicular  stretches  of  trail.  Occasionally  he  dis- 

364 


GOLD   HUNTER 

mounted  and  searched  the  ground  for  shoe  prints, 
reporting  their  presence  to  Ross.  He  made  these 
searches  in  a  few  spots  on  the  path  where  the 
soil  had  opportunity  to  lodge  and  furnish  a  foun 
dation  soft  enough  to  reveal  the  passing  of  the 
traveler. 

As  the  two  approached  the  lofty,  snow-topped 
summit  of  old  Axle,  'Nicholas  drew  rein  and 
looked  back.  "  Hey  !  Pulling  leather,  are  you  ? 
That's  a  tenderfoot  trick  for  certain  !  "  He  spoke 
half  derisively  and  half  anxiously,  his  eyes  on  the 
other's  horse. 

Ross  flushed  and  let  go  of  the  high  pommel  of 
the  saddle,  but  called  back  defensively,  "  Guess 
you'd  '  pull  leather  '  if  your  horse  stumbled  every 
other  step,  as  mine  does." 

The  only  reply  Nicholas  made  was  the  uneasy 
glance  he  cast  over  his  shoulder  at  the  tired  horse 
as  he  rode  on.  The  sun  was  throwing  a  flood  of 
dazzling  light  over  the  snowy  peak  of  old  Axle 
when  he  entered  the  narrow  winding,  gloomy  de 
file  that  skirted  the  foot  of  that  mountain  and 
wound  in  and  out  among  a  dense  forest  of  low 
pines  and  hemlocks.  On  the  left  was  a  tiny  tin 
kling  stream,  on  the  right,  the  rise  of  the  moun 
tainside.  On  all  sides  was  the  forest,  and  at  every 
turn  a  rock  shoulder  of  Axle. 

As  the  Monkey  rode  out  of  sight,  Ross's  mount 

365 


ROSS    GRANT 

stumbled  over  a  small  stone  and  fell  to  its  knees. 
Dismounting,  the  boy  coaxed  it  to  its  feet  again, 
and  then  led  it  along  the  trail  for  a  few  rods.  But 
the  weary  beast  had  gone  as  far  as  it  was  able. 
Again  it  stumbled  and  coming  to  its  knees,  refused 
at  first  to  rise.  With  difficulty  Ross  pulled  the 
saddle  off  and  the  animal  stretched  out  on  its  side. 
For  a  moment  the  boy  thought  it  was  dead,  and 
had  opened  his  lips  to  call  Nicholas  back  when  the 
horse  rolled  over  and  sat  up  like  a  dog  looking 
lazily  about  until  it  discovered  a  tuft  of  grass. 
Stumbling  weakly  to  its  feet  it  began  to  feed. 

"  I'll  not  risk  my  neck  on  you  any  longer," 
muttered  Ross.  "  You're  likely  to  take  a  header 
any  old  moment  and  then  I — yes — huh  !  Little 
use  I'd  be  to  Lucky — or  myself !  " 

Pulling  the  saddle  out  of  the  trail,  he  hobbled 
the  animal,  and  then  followed  Nicholas  on  foot, 
glad  of  a  chance  to  stretch  his  legs,  but  keenly 
alive  to  the  necessity  of  having  a  good  horse  at 
his  command.  In  a  few  moments  a  sudden  turn 
in  the  trail  brought  him  on  the  spotted  pony.  Its 
bridle  reins  were  dangling,  its  head  hanging  sleep 
ily — but  its  rider  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

"  He's  scouting,"  thought  Ross  and  stooping, 
began  to  examine  the  trail  that  here  was  covered 
with  the  soft  loam  made  by  centuries  of  leaf  de 
posit  from  the  sage-brush  and  quaking  asps.  It 

366 


GOLD   HUNTER 

took  him  only  a  moment  to  discover  the  fresh 
prints  of  a  pair  of  shoes  and  a  pair  of  moccasins. 

"  Here's  where  I  get  back  and  stay  tight  with 
Spot,"  he  told  himself  as  he  retreated.  "  I'm 
about  as  much  of  a  scout  as  an  elephant.  I'll  let 
the  Monkey  attend  to  that." 

Anxiously  he  waited  and  watched  until  a  faint 
odor  of  smoke  came  drifting  down  on  him.  At 
the  same  time  the  Monkey  appeared,  moving  as 
noiselessly  as  the  smoke,  his  face  screwed  up  and 
a  warning  finger  raised.  He  came  close  to  Ross 
and  spoke  in  a  low  tone. 

"  He's  eating  right  up  here  a  quarter  of  a  mile, 
maybe " 

"  Then  let's  hurry  and  take  the  Indian  trail," 
Ross  interrupted  joyfully.  "  My  horse  has  fallen. 
He's  up  again,  but  I  won't  trust  myself  on  him 
again  to-day.  Gee  whiz  !  Ain't  I  glad  we're  at 
his  heels ! " 

"  Yes,  but  Doc,  we  can't  get  on  the  Indian  trail 


now." 


"  Well,  why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  Sandy's  eating  right  above  that  rock 
where  the  trail  begins.  Of  course  I  don't  know 
whether  he's  going  to  take  it  or  not,  but  one  thing 
I  do  know,  and  that  is  we  can't  get  on  it  while  he 
is  there.  If  he  takes  it  we  can  follow  him,  but 
that's  all.  There's  a  gorge  this  side  of  the  foot 

367 


ROSS    GRANT 

trail,  Tod  said,  and  I  passed  it,  too.  If  we  should 
try  to  slip  down  the  bank  here  and  make  the  trail 
further  along,  we'd  find  ourselves  at  the  bottom  of 
a  perpendicular  wall.  No,  Tod  said  not  to  try  to 
get  on  that  trail  except  from  the  side  of  that  rock 
and  we  can't.  We  must  wait  Sandy's  motion. 
Let's  lead  the  horses  back  and  hobble  'em  and 
cache  the  saddle  and  the  grub — all  that  we  don't 
eat.  We  can  make  time  right  now  by  doing  all 
that." 

They  ate  first  without  building  a  fire,  ate  hastily 
of  cold  "  sinkers  "  and  crackers,  opening  a  tin  can 
of  peaches  and  drinking  beside  the  horses  from  the 
stream.  They  said  little.  Ross  was  thinking, 
while  Nicholas,  his  senses  alert,  informed  himself 
by  the  smoke  of  the  progress  of  the  lunch  above 
the  big  rock. 

Finally  Ross  turned  abruptly.  "  Nick,  see  here. 
My  horse  is  finished  for  the  day.  That  leaves  me 
on  foot.  Now  I  have  an  idea.  If  it  works — and 
you'd  have  to  turn  the  trick — it  would  give  us  the 
advantage  in  this  race." 

The  Monkey  paused  in  the  act  of  unblanketing 
his  horse.  He  looked  over  its  flank  expectantly. 
"  Good  old  Doc  !  You're  full  of  ideas." 

When  he  heard  this  particular  idea,  he  threw  a 
handspring  and  stood  on  his  head  waving  his  feet 
derisively  up  the  trail.  Then  he  regained  his  feet 

368 


GOLD    HUNTER 

and  exclaimed  in  a  low  tone  :  "  Bet  I  can  fetch 
it  I  Of  course  you  can't  appear  to  'im  for  Sandy 
knows  you're  with  Lucky  following  Mart !  But 
me !  Why,  I'm  Dad's  little  boy  riding  for  the  fun 
of  it,  and  I've  never  heard  of  a  cache  of  free  gold  ! 
Oh,  no ! " 

A  moment  later  he  was  on  Spot's  back  again  and 
stopping  only  to  give  a  little  more  information  to 
Ross  about  the  gorge  between  them  and  the  Indian 
trail,  he  set  off  whistling  and  singing  by  turns. 
Ross  followed  eagerly,  but  so  far  behind  that  he 
lost  sight  of  the  horseman.  He  followed  until  the 
trail  neared  the  end  of  the  canon  and  rifts  began 
to  appear  in  the  forest.  Then  he  was  halted  by 
the  sound  of  voices,  or  a  voice,  rather,  and  that 
belonged  to  the  Monkey.  It  was  raised  high,  un 
naturally  high,  and  carried  a  long  way  on  the  back 
trail,  as  the  boy  intended  it  should. 

"  Hello,  Sandy  !  "  yelled  the  Monkey.  "  What 
you  doing  up  here  so  far  from  everybody  ?  " 

The  reply  was  inaudible,  but  was  followed  again 
by  the  boy's  high-pitched  voice. 

"  Alone?"  shouted  Nicholas.  "  Am  I  alone? 
Of  course  not !  Can't  you  see  the  crowd  trailing 
on  after  me !  Don't  you  hear  my  brass  band  ? 
D'ye  think  Dad  would  let  his  little  Nicky  go 
so  far  from  home  without  some  one  holding  his 
hand?" 

369 


ROSS    GRANT 

Despite  his  anxiety  Ross  grinned  at  the  boy's 
quick-witted  gibes,  which  told  no  untruth,  and  yet 
gave  no  clew  to  the  nearness  of  Ross. 

"  Yep,"  the  Monkey  continued  in  answer  to  an 
other  unheard  question,  "  Dad's  over  in  these  parts 
somewhere,  and  if  I  live  long  enough  I  expect  to 
meet  up  with  him.  Now  that  I've  met  you  I  can 
have  company  on  the  trail." 

Ross  climbed  the  side  of  the  mountain  and 
crept  along  among  the  sage-bushes  above  the 
fire  that  Sandy  had  built  near  the  trail.  The 
Monkey  sat  sidewise  on  the  spotted  pony  looking 
down  on  Sandy,  who  was  squatted  beside  the 
fire  frying  bacon.  Beside  him  lay  the  bags,  made 
into  a  tight  bundle  and  tied  about  by  the  pack 
ropes. 

This  Ross  observed  from  the  shelter  of  a  sage- 
bush.  He  sat  down  on  his  heels,  parted  the 
branches,  and  watched.  He  was  too  far  away  still 
to  hear  aught  except  the  Monkey's  replies,  and 
these  continued  to  be  given  for  his  benefit  in  a 
voice  whose  size  was  out  of  all  proportion  to  the 
distance  between  him  and  his  listener. 

"  Packhorses ? "  he  exclaimed  at  length.  "The 
U  pack  outfit?  Why,  surely  I  I  have  just  come 
from  the  Pass.  Yes.  Tod  said  that  a  bunch  of 
'em  went  past  yesterday  morning  before  sunup. 
Did  I  see  'em  pass  ?  Not  on  your  life  !  I  was  too 

370 


ALL    RIGHT  ;    THAT'S    FAIR 


GOLD    HUNTER 

sound  asleep  about  that  time.  But  Tod  was  up, 
of  course ;  must  have  been." 

Had  the  Monkey  seen  the  width  of  Ross's  grin 
then  he  would  have  felt  repaid  for  his  skilful 
evasion,  but  in  the  real  object  for  which  the  boy 
had  come,  neither  evasion  nor  artifice  seemed  to 
be  necessary,  for  already  Sandy  was  eyeing  Spot 
hungrily. 

"  Why,  say ! "  cried  Nicholas  doubtfully  pres 
ently,  in  answer  to  something  Sandy  had  said. 
"Let  you  go  on  with  Spot?  Of  course,  I  believe 

in  bein'  neighborly,  but Oh,  in  an  awful 

hurry,  are  you?  No  pack  except  those  bags? 
Well,  I  guess  I  can  do  it,"  reluctantly.  "  Explain 
to  Dad,  if  you  run  across  him,  that  his  little  Nick 

is  cooling  his  heels  waiting  for  Spot Oh,  yes, 

just  turn  him  loose  and  tie  the  reins  back  tight 
to  the  rope,  this  one  that  cinches  the  blanket,  so 
he  can't  stop  to  eat,  and  I  guess  he'll  get  back  here 
before  night.  All  right,  that's  fair.  I'll  eat  your 
grub  until  old  Spot  makes  it  back  here." 

Ross  grinned  delightedly  while  Sandy  hastily 
cinched  his  bundle  of  bags  on  the  pony's  back, 
and  then,  without  waiting  to  finish  his  dinner, 
and  taking  no  food  along,  he  mounted  ahead  of 
his  pack  and  rode  away  in  the  direction  of  Sheep's 
Horn,  leaving  the  boy  looking  after  him.  Ross 
stood  up  and  waved  his  arms  until  he  caught  the 

371 


ROSS    GRANT 

watcher's  attention.  Then  he  lost  no  time  in  mak 
ing  his  way  down  to  the  trail. 

"  Doc,"  grinned  Nicholas,  "  that  was  dead  easy 
sport !  He  bit  on  Spot  before  I  had  a  chance  to 
offer  him.  He  said  he  needed  a  horse,  and  would 
I  loan  him  Spot,  as  long  as  I  was  out  for  pleasure 
and  he  for  business  !  " 

Ross  grinned.     "  What  explanations " 

"  None.  Don't  you  see  ?  So  long  as  I'm  the 
innocent  lad  I  don't  need  to  be  lied  to.  He  just 
got  on  Spot  and  rode  off,  tickled  to  death  that  I 
gave  him  up  so  readily  and  without  questions. 
I'm  to  sit  tight  here  by  his  fire,  like  the  dear  little 
boy  that  I  am,  until  he  sends  Spot  back  to  me ! " 

Here  Nicholas  flung  his  cap  into  the  air  and 
leaped  nimbly  to  meet  it.  Then  he  turned  back. 

"  Come  on,  Doc.  It's  us  for  the  hatchet  and  a 
sprint  along  the  Indian  trail.  Tod  said  never  to 
forget  the  hatchet.  We  won't  load  up  with  any 
thing  else." 

A  few  moments  later  Ross,  bearing  the  hatchet, 
followed  Nicholas  past  a  huge  rock,  and,  turning 
into  a  narrow  path,  hurried  along  the  brink  of  a 
precipice  that  ran  at  right  angles  to  the  canon  at 
the  foot  of  Axle.  This  precipice  formed  one  of  the 
sides  to  a  fissure  or  gorge  that  cut  through  the 
range  at  the  left  of  old  Axle  and  opened  a  perilous 
way  to  the  Horn.  Ross,  avoiding  looking  down 

372 


GOLD    HUNTER 

into  the  yawning  crevasse,  followed  silently,  hug 
ging  the  steep  mountain  wall  on  the  right,  until 
at  last  the  fissure,  becoming  shallower  and  shal 
lower  and  widening,  was  merged  into  another 
canon  similar  to  the  one  below  old  Axle. 

Here  the  Monkey,  drawing  a  long  breath,  paused. 
"  Doc,  now  for  beating  Sandy  by  some  hours,  for 
Spot  ain't  going  to  serve  him  well.  The  pony's 
too  tired  to  travel,  but  worse  than  that,  Sandy 
ain't  used  to  riding  without  a  saddle  and  don't 
know  how  to  hang  on.  He'll  slip  off  both  ways  ! 
He'll  have  to  take  to  walking  over  the  worst 
places,  and  he'll  be  finding  them  right  off,  too ! " 

After  this  the  boys  traveled  almost  in  silence. 
Ross  was  soon  bewildered  by  the  sameness  of  the 
peaks  and  the  density  of  the  thickets  of  scrub  pine 
and  sage-brush  and  quaking  asp,  through  which 
they  made  their  way.  Again  and  again  as  they 
crossed  the  summits  of  the  ridges  he  lost  the  trail 
and  looked  with  admiration  at  the  Monkey,  who 
pushed  on,  darting  here  and  there,  always  success 
ful  finally  in  picking  it  up  again.  Occasionally 
they  were  obliged  to  cut  a  path  through  the  scrub 
hemlock  that  had  grown  over  the  trail.  Then  it 
was  that  Ross  wielded  the  hatchet  under  direction 
of  the  more  experienced  woodsman  and  mountain 
climber. 

"  Nick,  I'll  furnish  the  muscle  for  this  hike,"  he 

373 


ROSS    GRANT 

groaned,  "  if  you'll  hang  on  to  your  head  and  keep 
Tod's  directions  in  it.  Sure  you've  got  'em  right 
now?  "  anxiously. 

"  We're  all  right  yet,  Doc,"  responded  the 
Monkey,  nursing  a  bloody  arm  torn  by  a  fall  over 
a  rock.  "  See  here.  Take  your  bearings.  The 
sun  is  at  our  backs — we  can  just  see  it  over  our 
right  shoulders,  and  the  Horn  is  ahead  of  our  nose. 
Don't  you  recall  what  Tod  said  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,  now  that  I  hear  you  repeat  it  I " 

Ross  put  himself  in  the  other's  position,  and 
sure  enough  !  Deceptively  near,  but  almost  lost 
among  the  peaks,  appeared  the  outlines  of  the 
Sheep's  Horn. 

"  Looks  from  here  about  a  mile  away,"  mourned 
Ross.  "  If  I  was  on  good  old  Pennsylvania's  soil 
I'd  swear  it  was  no  farther,  but  in  this  clear  air 
everything  is  so  deceptively  near — and  alas,  so  far 
in  reality ! " 

The  Monkey  munched  a  piece  of  sweet  chocolate 
he  had  found  in  his  pocket.  "  Guess  you'll  think 
so  by  the  time  we've  fallen  off  a  few  more  peaks  !  " 

They  set  off  again  resolutely,  and  although  Ross 
felt  that  every  muscle  in  his  body  had  been 
pounded  and  stretched  to  the  breaking  point  he  did 
not  falter,  with  the  vision  of  Lucky  and  the  cache 
of  free  gold  growing  more  and  more  vivid  as  the 
two  approached  the  Horn. 

374 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  One  more  pull  and  we're  there,"  he  muttered 
as  they  began  the  climb  of  the  Horn  itself. 

Skirting  the  tall  rock  tip  of  the  Horn  wearily 
they  made  their  way  down  on  the  other  side 
toward  the  cabin.  As  they  neared  it  they  broke 
into  a  run  and  burst  into  the  shack  together,  each 
eager  to  be  the  first  to  tell  Lucky. 

But  Lucky  was  not  there. 


375 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

ROSS  PLAYS  AN  UNEXPECTED  PART 

Ross  stopped  in  the  doorway  aghast.  Unreason 
able  as  it  now  appeared  to  him,  he  had  never  con 
sidered  the  possibility  of  Lucky's  not  meeting 
them  at  the  door  of  the  shack. 

"  Ha  1  "  cried  the  Monkey.  "  Lucky's  out  call 
ing,  is  he  ?  Well,  we're  here  I  Hurray  !  " 

On  his  way  to  the  high  bunk  the  boy  paused  to 
spin  like  a  top  on  one  foot,  waving  his  arms  in 
derision  of  Sandy. 

"  When  the  gentleman  on  Spot  arrives  won't  he 
be  amazed  and  astonished  and  overcome  to  find 
Daddy's  little  boy  here  with  the  Tenderfoot  from 
Pennsylvania  ?  Ha — hurray  !  " 

Then  the  Monkey  stood  erect,  dashed  the  hair 
out  of  his  eyes,  and  grinned  at  Ross.  "  Did  Lucky 
take  his  best  engraved  calling  cards  along?" 

"  He  certainly  did,"  replied  Ross  somberly, 
pointing  to  the  pegs  above  Lucky's  bunk.  "  Look 
there!  His  gun  is  gone.  That  strikes  me  as 
meaning  that  he  has  hiked  out  for  the  day." 

"  What  of  it  ? "  asked  Nicholas  carelessly. 
"  Hurry  up  and  let's  get  into  that  cave."  He 

376 


GOLD   HVNTER 

removed  a  cover  from  the  stove  and  looked  inside. 
The  fireplace  was  half  full  of  cold  ashes.  "  No 
fire  here  since  morning,"  he  announced,  and  with 
a  bound  reached  the  bunk  that  Fred  Holzworth 
had  built. 

Ross  did  not  immediately  follow.  He  looked 
sharply  about  the  shack,  silent  and  motionless. 

The  Monkey,  making  observations  under  the 
bunk,  was  also  silent  for  a  moment,  and  into  the 
silence  crept  that  faint,  insistent  beat,  the  small, 
ever  present  call  of  the  "  ha'nt."  Involuntarily 
Ross  glanced  behind  him  at  the  spot  from  which 
it  seemed  to  come.  Then  he  gave  it  no  further  at 
tention  in  his  scrutiny  of  the  shack.  Evidently 
Lucky  had  occupied  himself  for  the  last  two  days 
to  the  exclusion  of  cutting  fire-wood,  because  the 
last  log  which  Holzworth  had  "  snaked  "  down 
the  mountainside  remained  intact  outside  the  door, 
while  every  box  inside  had  been  cut  into  suitable 
lengths  for  the  stove.  The  axe  lay  beside  the 
debris. 

"He  spent  the  night  here,"  said  Ross  aloud 
thoughtfully,  "  and  intends  to  come  back  to-night, 
because  his  blankets  and  mine  are  all  here." 

The  Monkey,  on  his  knees  under  the  higher 
bunk,  his  tow  head  almost  lost  to  view,  his  hands 
active,  responded  in  a  muffled  tone  :  "  Come  on 
here  and  help,  Doc.  What  you  worrying  about 

377 


ROSS    GRANT 

Lucky  for?  What  can  Sandy  do?  He  may  not 
get  here  himself  until  night " 

"  Tod  said,  I  remember,"  interrupted  Ross,  "  that 
if  he  came  on  horseback  and  we  on  foot  over  the 
Indian  trail,  we  might  get  here  at  the  same  time." 

"  But  I'm  reckoning  on  Spot  and  on  Sandy's  not 
being  able  to  ride  well  without  a  saddle,"  muttered 
Nicholas.  Then  he  burst  out  triumphantly,  "  This 
is  the  combination  !  I've  found  it.  Look  here  I  " 

He  seized  the  axe  and  inserting  its  blade  between 
the  bunk  and  the  wall  pried  with  all  his  might. 
Ross  rushed  forward,  Lucky  temporarily  thrust  out 
of  his  mind,  and  the  bunk,  yielding  to  the  com 
bined  efforts  of  the  two,  fell  away  from  the  logs. 

They  found  that  Holzworth  had  built  it  to  stand 
alone,  a  long  box  on  four  legs,  the  back  supports 
being  of  board  about  a  foot  wide.  The  reason  for 
this  width  was  revealed  as  quickly  as  the  bunk 
was  drawn  away  from  the  wall.  The  reason  also 
for  its  awkward  height  appeared  at  once.  It  was 
built  to  conceal  the  outlines  of  an  opening — a  crude 
door  into  the  cave. 

How  Holzworth  had  come  to  suspect  the  exist 
ence  of  the  cave  no  one  will  ever  know.  As 
Lucky  said,  men  had  come  and  gone  in  that  shack 
for  years,  and  no  one  before  had  dreamed  that  the 
back  of  the  shack  was  built  over  the  dark,  damp 
entrance  to  an  underground  chamber.  Holzworth 

378 


GOLD    HUNTER 

had  made  an  easy  and  secret  access  to  the  cave  pos 
sible  by  cutting  through  the  base  log  and  several 
above  it.  These  sections  of  logs  had  been  fastened 
together  on  the  cave  side  by  means  of  crosspieces 
nailed  to  the  logs,  so  that  the  sections  made  a 
hingeless  door  that  could  be  shoved  into  the  open 
ing.  The  back  of  the  bunk  extended  along  the 
crack  between  the  door  and  the  log  above,  while 
the  wide  rear  supports  covered  the  vertical  cuts. 

Excitedly  the  boys  pulled  back  the  door,  and  a 
burst  of  damp  air  met  them  as  they  peered  into  the 
blackness  of  the  cave.  Ross  snatched  a  candle 
stick  from  the  table  and  lighted  the  half  length  of 
candle  it  held.  Then,  stooping,  he  followed  Nich 
olas  silently  into  the  cavern,  with  its  floor  of  slip 
pery  muck.  They  stood  upright  the  other  side  of 
the  log  wall.  The  great  rectangular  rock  was  only 
a  shell  of  a  rock,  it  appeared,  pushed  out  into  view 
by  some  mighty  subterranean  upheaval  which  had 
made  the  rock's  concave  bottom  the  funnel-shaped 
entrance  to  a  deep  and  lofty  chamber.  From  the 
jagged  and  seamed  roof  the  water  dropped  contin 
ually  and  softly  into  the  ooze  on  the  floor. 

Still  in  silence  the  boys  crept  forward,  sliding 
their  shoes  through  the  muck,  fearful  of  seams  in 
the  rock  underfoot  as  well  as  overhead,  until  Nich 
olas,  still  in  advance,  stumbled  over  an  object  in 
his  path. 

379 


ROSS    GRANT 

"  Here  it  is  I  "  he  shouted. 

Both  boys  started  nervously  at  the  result  of  the 
shout.  The  words  came  back  to  them  in  sepul 
chral  syllables  overlaid  with  uncanny  sounds,  lisp- 
ings  and  whisperings  that  made  the  cave  seem  full 
of  unearthly  presences.  The  candle  in  Ross's  hand 
shook  for  an  instant,  so  unexpected  was  the  echo 
and  so  great  had  been  the  nervous  strain  of  the 
preceding  days. 

"  It's  the  ha'nt !  "  he  murmured  with  a  nervous 
laugh,  and  then  jumped  involuntarily  again  to 
hear  both  declaration  and  laugh  tossed  about  and 
distorted  by  the  echoes,  now  magnified,  now  muf 
fled,  now  prolonged. 

"  Whew  I  "  whispered  the  Monkey.  "  It's  a  pow 
erful  lively  haunt ! " 

The  haunt  proved  its  liveliness  by  filling  the 
cave  with  whispers  that  mingled  indistinctly  with 
the  muffled  echoes  of  their  shoes  splashing  and 
sucking  in  the  ooze. 

The  object  that  had  given  rise  to  Nicholas' 
triumphant  yell  of  "Here  it  is!"  was  a  pile  of 
quartz  that  rose  knee-high  in  their  path  and  whose 
extent  was  lost  in  the  gloom  that  was  scarcely  re 
lieved  by  the  faint  rays  from  the  little  candle  Ross 
now  held  above  his  head.  Having  recovered  from 
the  start  given  them  by  the  "  ha'nt,"  they  fell  to 
examining  the  quartz  pile  in  its  length  and  breadth, 

380 


GOLD    HUNTER 

bringing  bits  under  the  candle  rays  and  exclaim 
ing  over  the  gleam  of  gold  on  the  surface.  They 
exulted,  also,  in  the  amount  of  ore.  Had  Sandy 
with  his  gunny  sacks  reached  the  place  ahead  of 
them,  he  could  have  made  but  little  impression  on 
that  pile  while  daylight  lasted — and  now  they  were 
here — and  surely  Lucky  would  come  before  night. 

They  delved  into  the  heap  of  ore  until  they  were 
thoroughly  chilled  and  wet  by  the  cold  drippings 
from  the  roof  seams  of  the  rock.  Their  candle  was 
also  burning  low,  and  Ross  had  seen  no  other  in 
the  shack. 

"  Let's  go  around  the  cave  a  little  while  we've  a 
candle  to  see  by,"  he  whispered,  and  the  Monkey, 
nodding  assent,  fell  in  behind  the  light. 

Putting  it  in  front  of  him  and  protecting  it 
from  the  drippings  by  holding  his  cap  over  it,  he 
advanced  further  and  further  from  the  patch  of 
light  that  marked  the  entrance  to  the  cave.  Sud 
denly  his  foot  splashed  into  water,  slipped  forward 
and  nearly  unbalanced  him.  Hastily  he  drew 
back  and  lowered  the  candle.  Its  rays  struck  a 
black  surface  which  rippled  beneath  great  drops 
of  water  that  slowly  collected  in  a  seam  overhead 
and  splashed  at  regular  intervals  into  this  murky 
deep  pool. 

"  Nick,"  whispered  Ross,  "  did  you  ever  imagine 
one  drop  of  water  could  make  so  much  sound  ?  " 

38i 


ROSS    GRANT 

Nicholas  came  to  his  side,  and  both  stood  motion 
less.  Although  they  did  not  then  realize  it,  they 
were  listening  to  the  "  ha'nt  "  which  had,  through 
the  years,  spoken  to  the  superstitious  prospectors 
in  the  silence  of  the  shack.  In  the  cavern  the 
sound  of  the  regular  dropping  was  intensified  in 
volume  until  it  seemed  as  though  each  drop  was  a 
bullet  plunging  into  the  pool.  Beyond  the  black 
pool  shone  a  curving  and  black  surface,  the  rocky 
end  of  the  cave,  and  an  excellent  sounding  board. 

Hurriedly  retracing  their  steps  Ross,  still  in 
advance,  was  about  to  stoop  to  enable  him  to  pass 
under  the  wall  logs  into  the  shack  when  the  candle 
light  fell  on  an  object  that  both  had  overlooked  as 
they  entered  the  cave. 

It  was  a  large  box,  strengthened  by  cleats  nailed 
up  its  sides  and  along  its  edges  and  across  its  base, 
but  it  had  evidently  seen  hard  service.  It  had 
originally  been  brought  in  filled  with  canned 
tomatoes  on  the  back  of  a  horse.  Having  served 
its  original  purpose,  it  was  now  serving  another 
and  very  different  one.  In  an  instant  both  boys 
were  hanging  over  it  exclaiming  excitedly  over  its 
contents.  It  was  evident  that  Fred  Holzwort^i 
had  sorted  the  ore,  filling  this  box  with  the  pie^-es 
which  contained  the  largest  visible  nuggets  and 
flakes.  He  had  even  commenced  to  break  up  the 
other  quartz,  casting  into  a  refuse  heap  the  broken 

382 


GOLD    HUNTER 

pieces  that  revealed  the  least  amount  of  metal  and 
putting  the  rest  into  the  box.  The  result  was  a 
maximum  of  value  in  a  minimum  of  bulk. 

"  Nick/'  whispered  Ross  softly  to  still  the 
weird  echo,  "  if  Sandy  should  get  here  with 
only  one  bag — and  find  a  bunch  of  such  ore  as 
this " 

11  Tell  you  what  we  must  do,  and  do  it  now  !  " 
was  the  agitated  return  whisper. 

Doing  away  with  further  speech  and,  therefore, 
further  echo,  Nicholas  stooped  and  attempted  to 
lift  one  end  of  the  box.  Instantly  Ross  caught 
his  idea,  which  was  to  carry  the  box  out  of  the 
shack  and  hide  it.  He  seized  the  other  end, 
giving  it  a  strong  wrench.  The  result  was  dis 
astrous.  The  box  had  evidently  been  previously 
wracked  to  the  limit  of  its  strength,  for  it  was 
stout  enough  to  hold  the  quartz,  but  not  strong 
enough  to  withstand  the  extra  strain  brought  to 
bear  on  it  by  the  boys.  It  gave  way  and  fell  apart, 
the  rich  ore  sliding  down  into  the  muck  in  all 
directions,  and  faintly  stirring  the  echoes. 

"  Oh,  for  a  bag — just  one  of  the  gunny  bags  on 
Spot  1 "  cried  Nicholas  aloud. 

Instantly  the  cavern  was  filled  with  confused 
echoes,  while  the  boys  stood  looking  down  in 
dismay  at  the  result  of  their  misguided  efforts. 

"Push  the  stuff  up  together,  Nick,"  Ross  whis- 

383 


ROSS    GRANT 

pered,  "  and  I'll  go  out  and  see  what  I  can  get  to 
carry  it  in." 

Leaving  the  candle  with  Nicholas  he  dove 
through  the  aperture  into  the  welcome  sunlight. 
The  necessity  was  strong  upon  him  of  getting  that 
rare  bit  of  gold  out  of  the  cave  and  away  from 
Sandy's  immediate  reach.  He  had  but  a  vague 
idea  of  the  value  of  that  boxful,  but  he  believed 
there  were  hundreds  of  dollars'  worth  of  gold  in 
cluded  in  a  bulk  of  ore  which  one  horse  might  carry 
on  its  back.  His  glance  ran  over  the  shack.  A 
couple  of  bags  which  Lucky  had  used  for  the 
transportation  of  food  lay  beside  the  stove.  Ross 
sprang  for  them  hastily,  but  was  arrested  half-way 
across  the  floor  by  a  sharp  sound  from  the  wall 
opposite  the  opening  into  the  cave.  He  stared  in 
fascination  at  the  blank  wall  a  full  minute  before 
he  realized  that  he  was  listening  to  the  bullet-like 
fall  of  the  drop  of  water  into  the  cavern  pool. 

It  was  evident  that  not  only  were  all  the  condi 
tions  fulfilled  to  cause  a  perfect  echo  of  that  drop, 
but  that  some  additional  acoustic  condition  caused 
the  ventriloquistic  effect  of  making  the  sound  to 
seem  to  come  only  from  the  reflecting  surface. 

"  But  it's  so  much  louder  than  when  I  heard  it 
before "  Ross  cried  aloud. 

"  What's  that  you're  saying?  "  shouted  Nicholas. 

The  effect  of  the  words  was  startling.  Only  the 

384 


GOLD   HUNTER 

drop  of  water  had  because  of  its  distance  a  perfect 
echo.  The  question  filled  the  cabin  with  half 
echoes,  with  strange  syllables  and  hisses,  with  an 
overwhelming  confusion  of  sound  that  poured  from 
the  funnel-shaped  mouth  of  the  cave  and  seemed 
also  to  drop  from  the  logs  overhead,  from  the  side 
walls,  and  rise  from  the  very  floor.  Before  this 
avalanche  subsided,  a  very  different  sort  of  dis 
turbance  smote  Ross's  ear.  "  Hush,  Nick  !  "  he 
warned  sharply.  "  Don't  you  move  nor  speak. 
Mind  now  !  " 

He  hurried  to  the  door  and  looked  out,  ad 
vancing  his  head  with  the  utmost  caution.  What 
he  had  heard  was  a  stone  bounding  down  the 
slope.  It  had  flashed  past  the  doorway  and  dis 
appeared.  With  a  tightening  of  the  muscles  in 
his  throat,  Ross  peered  up  toward  the  Horn  and 
saw  there  the  realization  of  his  worst  fears  in  the 
figures  of  Sandy  and  Waymart  McKenzie  leisurely 
descending  the  slope.  Sandy  was  talking  ex 
citedly  and  they  were  coming  confidently  as 
though  they  had  no  expectation  of  meeting  any 
one.  This  attitude  was  easily  understandable  to 
the  boy  in  the  doorway.  Sandy  believed  that 
Lucky  and  he  were  far  away,  and  that  the  Mon 
key,  utterly  ignorant  of  the  letter,  was  camping 
at  the  entrance  to  the  Indian  trail.  Waymart  must 
have  doubled  on  his  trail  in  accordance  with  a  plan 

385 


ROSS    GRANT 

conceived  by  Sandy  before  the  two  had  parted,  and 
this  meant  that,  not  far  away,  were  his  three  horses, 
together  with  Spot,  and  all  those  gunny  sacks. 
And  in  the  cavern  was  that  boxful  of  rich  ore 
with  two  unarmed  boys.  The  men  coming  down 
the  slope  always  went  armed. 

Ross  drew  back,  the  blood  receding  from  his 
face.  He  stood  still  trying  to  steady  his  senses, 
when  on  his  ear  there  fell  the  echo  of  the  ceaseless 
dropping  of  the  water  in  the  cave.  Fell  also  into 
his  memory  in  an  illuminating  flash  Sandy's  re 
marks  on  that  sound  and  his  uneasy  and  unex 
plained  comment  as  he  sat  with  Breitmann  beside 
the  camp-fire  in  the  Valley  of  the  Willows.  In 
that  comment  Sandy  had  wondered  why  Holz- 
worth  should  have  cached  the  ore  where  he  did. 

The  letter  had  revealed  to  Sandy  the  existence 
of  the  cave.  But  it  had  evidently  not  mentioned 
the  fact  that  the  ha'nt  was  only  an  echo,  and  this 
latter  fact  determined  Ross's  action.  His  figure 
blocked  the  opening,  and  his  voice,  hoarse  with 
agitation,  whispered  : 

"  Nick,  Sandy  and  Waymart  are  coming.  Sh  ! 
Not  a  word.  I  can't  stop  to  explain — get  out 
quick,  block  up  this  hole  and  put  the  bunk  back 
in  its  place  and  then  drop  out  of  the  window  and 
hide  and  don't  leave  anything  behind  you  to  show 
that  any  one  is  here.  Move  your  fastest !  " 

386 


GOLD    HUNTER 

The  younger  boy  made  no  comment,  but  the 
next  moment  Ross  found  himself  alone  in  the 
cave  with  the  candle-end  spluttering  faintly.  The 
section  of  logs  moved  forward  and  left  no  glimpse 
of  light,  There  was  a  faint  scraping  sound  that 
he  judged  to  be  the  bunk  pushed  into  place.  Then 
silence. 

He  started  to  the  edge  of  the  pool.  He  must 
throw  his  voice  out  from  the  exact  point  of  the 
dripping  of  that  drop — the  point  of  perfect  echo. 
Hastily,  lest  the  candle  fail  before  he  reached  his 
destination,  he  waded  boldly  into  the  pool.  Luck 
ily  it  was  not  deep.  A  depression  in  the  rock  had 
caught  the  drippings.  But  when  he  reached  the 
point  of  perfect  echo,  he  was  standing  in  icy  water 
nearly  to  his  knees.  At  first  he  was  not  conscious 
of  discomfort ;  he  was  busy  grasping  the  situation. 
He  reasoned  that  any  variation  in  the  volume  of 
sound  might  produce  different  results  in  the 
shack,  and  he  wanted  his  voice  to  appear  to  come 
from  the  outer  wall  where  the  ha'nt  had  spoken 
since  the  cabin  was  built.  It  had  previously  oc 
curred  to  him  that  the  closing  of  the  aperture 
caused  the  softening  of  the  echo  into  the  throb 
bing,  tiny,  insistent  beat  that  Sandy  had  heard 
before. 

A  moment  Ross  waited,  trying  to  gain  control 
of  his  voice,  which  he  felt  to  be  as  shaky  as  hia 

38; 


ROSS    GRANT 

knees.  With  a  final  splutter  his  candle  went  out, 
leaving  him  in  a  damp  darkness  that  seemed  un 
cannily  alive,  waiting  alertly  as  it  was  to  burst 
into  reiterated  speech.  Drawing  a  long  breath, 
he  began  to  whisper,  "  Sandy/'  in  a  quick,  short, 
sharp  manner  so  that  the  entire  word  would  be  re 
peated  in  the  cabin. 

He  was  working  in  the  dark  literally  and  fig 
uratively.  He  could  not  know  when  the  Mc- 
Kenzies  would  reach  the  shack.  He  could  not 
know  whether  or  not  they  would  reconnoiter  out 
side  or  enter  at  once,  but  he  judged  that  if  they 
came  in  at  once  they  would  be  there  in  time  to 
catch  his  first  whisper.  But,  worst  of  all,  he  could 
not  be  sure  whether  the  echo  was  doing  its  duty 
in  front  of  that  closed  section  of  logs,  and  causing 
his  voice  to  seem  to  come  from  the  wall  opposite 
the  cave.  He  swayed  dizzily  in  the  murkiness,  so 
intently  were  his  eyes  strained  on  the  point  from 
which  the  Monkey  had  excluded  the  light.  So 
long  as  that  door  remained  closed  the  human 
"  haunt "  must  continue  to  play  his  part,  for,  he 
reasoned,  Nicholas  would  relieve  him  at  the  ear 
liest  opportunity  if  the  "  ha'nt "  had  the  desired 
effect  of  driving  the  McKenzies  away. 

After  a  moment's  whispered  repetition  of 
"  Sandy,"  Ross  spoke  aloud  gradually  deepening 
his  voice.  "  Go  !  "  he  commanded.  "  Go  !  Go  I 

388 


GOLD    HUNTER 

Go  !  "  Then  he  betook  himself  to  the  favorite  oc 
cupation  of  so-called  "  haunts,"  groaning,  and  his 
efforts  in  this  direction  caused  the  chills  that  were 
besetting  his  damp  knees  to  creep  up  his  spine,  so 
uncanny  was  the  result  in  the  cave. 

"  If  Sandy  can  live  through  much  of  this  I 
can't !  "  he  told  himself  as  he  kept  silent  after  an 
especially  sepulchral  effort. 

"  I  think  I  could  scare  myself  into  fits.  Hor 
rors  1  "  he  whispered  as  the  groans  dropped  back 
on  him  in  horrible  cadences  the  original  could  not 
muster.  "  This  is  on  a  par  with  meeting  the 
bear ! " 

Still  the  door  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave  did  not 
open,  and  this  encouraged  the  boy  to  do  his  best  in 
the  matter  of  moans  and  calls  although  he  could 
not  be  sure  that  the  result  was  not  being  wasted  in 
the  shack.  Finally,  unable  longer  to  endure  the 
ice  water  bath  his  feet  were  getting,  and  recalling 
the  result  of  the  Monkey's  speech  nearer  the 
mouth  of  the  cave,  he  crept  out  of  the  water,  and, 
groaning  as  he  went,  advanced  to  the  side  of  the 
broken  box. 

Hours  later,  to  measure  by  his  feelings,  perhaps 
fifteen  minutes  measured  by  the  watch  in  his 
pocket,  the  section  of  logs  moved  slowly.  Day 
light  appeared,  and  a  groan  was  suddenly  choked 
in  his  throat.  Was  it  the  Monkey,  or  Sandy  ?  Had 

389 


ROSS    GRANT 

Sandy's  superstition  proved  more  keen  or  less  than 
his  wits  ?  And  were  it  Sandy,  what  would  he, 
Ross,  do  ? 

"  For  the  love  of  Mike,  Doc,  stop  that  noise,  or 
I'll  go  mad  myself ! "  came  Nicholas'  welcome 
voice,  and  Ross  fairly  fell  forward  through  the 
opening. 

"  Where  are  they  ?  What  has  happened  ?  "  he 
asked  breathlessly. 

"  I  can  imagine  the  tails  of  their  horses  are 
sticking  straight  out  behind  by  this  time/'  giggled 
the  Monkey.  "  If  Waymart's  coat  had  a  tail  I 
know  it  would  be  whipped  into  shreds  before  he 
reached  the  horses !  " 

Nicholas  dropped  to  the  floor  and  hugging  his 
knees,  rocked  back  and  forth  in  glee.  "  As  for 
Sandy,  if  he  hasn't  a  stroke  of  apoplexy  or  heart 
failure  or  something  after  skating  up  the  side  of 
the  Horn  the  way  he  did  I'll  miss  my  guess." 

Ross  stood  shivering  and  dripping  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  shack.  "  Then  you're  sure  they've  gone  ?  " 

"  Gone !  All  of  Daisy's  freighters  couldn't 
drag  'em  back  here.  I  scouted  along  up  after  'em 
aways  to  be  sure  they  were  scared  stiff — or  limber, 
rather,  for  I  never  saw  men  go  so  fast  up-hill." 

Here  Nicholas,  for  the  first  time,  saw  the  dis 
comfort  that  Ross's  foot  bath  was  causing  him. 
He  scrambled  hastily  to  his  feet. 

390 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  See  here,  Doc,  you  get  those  wet  things  off  and 
wrap  up  in  blankets.  Here,  get  into  Lucky's  bed. 
We  can't  build  up  a  fire  yet.  They  might  see  the 
smoke  and  smell  a  rat.  But  I'll  rub  you  down.  I 
can  give  one  or  two  first  aids  myself,  if  I'm  not 
going  to  be  a  doc  !  " 

Presently  as  Ross's  shivers  were  subsiding, 
Nicholas  told  his  story  coherently. 

"  If  I  hadn't  felt  sure  you  had  something  worth 
while  up  your  sleeve,  Doc,  I  never  could  have  got 
out  of  that  hole  and  got  the  door  put  up,  and  the 
bunk  shoved  over  it  and  made  my  get-away  before 
they  came.  But  I  tell  you  I  didn't  let  a  blade  of 
grass  grow  under  my  feet.  Little  Nicky  was  spry, 
and  don't  you  forget  it !  I  grabbed  my  coat — al 
most  forgot  that — I  had  taken  it  off  before  I  went 
into  the  cave — and  just  plunged  head  foremost 
through  that  glassless  window.  Then  in  they 
came  !  I  crawled  along  to  the  rock  and  lay  with 
my  ear  to  the  crack  between  the  first  and  second 
logs,  and  shook  in  my  moccasins  for  fear  they'd 
look  out  of  the  window  and  see  me." 

"  Could  you  hear  me?"  asked  Ross  eagerly. 

"  Nope,  not  at  first,  but  guess  they  heard  some 
thing  the  first  whack  when  they  got  inside,  for 
Waymart  said,  '  Hold  on  !  What's  that  ?  ' 

" '  Come  on  now,'  said  Sandy,  sort  of  dis 
gusted.  '  What  did  I  tell  ye  ?  That  ha'nt  hain't 


ROSS    GRANT 

got  arms  ner  legs  ner  a  gun,  and  we're  after  that 
box  of  gold/" 

"  Huh  !  "  exclaimed  Ross,  "  then  the  letter  must 
have  mentioned  the  box." 

"  Guess  so,  by  that.  Well,  I  heard  'em  make  a 
move  or  two,  and  it  come  to  me  for  the  first  time 
what  your  game  was.  I  nearly  bust  with  one  or 
more  feelin's.  Thought  I'd  yell  in  spite  of  me, 
but  Waymart  did  that  for  me.  Didn't  you  hear 
him?" 

"  Not  I ! "  exclaimed  Ross.  "  I  was  so  busy 
listening  to  a  dozen  or  more  of  myself  in  there  that 
I  hadn't  ears  for  anything  in  the  shack." 

"  Well,  before  I  could  hear  a  sound  of  the  echo," 
continued  the  Monkey,  "  Waymart  gave  a  yell. 
'  Sandy,  d'ye  hear  ?  I  don't  need  no  second 
tellin','  and  out  he  got  in  a  hurry.  I  heard  him 
go  on  the  jump.  Now,  what  did  you  say  ?" 

Ross  shook  in  his  blankets,  but  not  with  a  chill. 
"  I  said,  '  Go,  go,  go  ! '" 

"Well — he  went  all  right,  but  Sandy  stuck  it 
out  a  minute  or  two  longer.  I  heard  him  mutter 
ing  either  to  himself,  or  the  haunt.  Then,  Doc, 
the  sounds  that  broke  loose  in  there  were  awful. 
Golly !  I  could  have  heard  you  groaning  and 
taking  on  through  a  double  door  of  iron.  It 
scared  me  half  to  death,  in  spite  of  myself." 

"  Scared  me  too,"  assented  Ross,  chuckling.  "  My 

392 


GOLD    HUNTER 

hair  was  about  as  stiff  as  when  I  was  treed  by  that 
bear.  I've  never  heard  such  an  echo." 

"  Neither  had  Sandy !  I  heard  him  leave.  I 
think  he  crossed  the  floor  in  one  jump,  and  I 
know  he  hasn't  stopped  going  yet.  He  kicked 
enough  stones  loose  on  the  trail  so  that  they 
rolled  back  down  the  side  of  the  mountain  for 
about " 

Suddenly  Ross  raised  up  on  his  elbow.  "  See 
here,  Nick !  Can  you  guess  yet  what  makes  that 
trail  all  scraped  smooth  down  from  Holzworth's 
discovery  hole?" 

"  No — that  is — he  must  have  snaked  logs " 

"  Logs  nothing  !  "  cried  Ross.  "  He  got  logs 
down  nearer  this  shack.  I  have  it !  That  trail 
was  worn  off  by  dragging  the  ore  down.  He  may 
have  had  sacks — no,  they  would  be  worn  out  too 
quickly.  Nick,  he  dragged  it  down  in  that  box 
itself— that's  it." 

"  Right  you  must  be ! "  responded  Nicholas 
eagerly.  "  He  cleated  the  box  for  that  job — and 
wore  it  out,  too.  And  the  hole  through  the  end — 
he  tied  one  of  the  pack  ropes  there  and  snaked  the 
ore  down  from  the  Horn  in  small  loads." 

Ross  threw  off  the  blankets  and  sat  up  excitedly. 
"  Exactly.  He  must  have  left  the  box  at  the  top 
of  the  slope  and  then  back-packed  the  ore  out  of 
the  hole  in  sacks.  And  that  accounts  for  the  trail 

393 


ROSS    GRANT 

not  being  scraped  from  the  top  of  the  slope  around 
the  brush  on  the  level." 

Presently  Nicholas,  leaving  Ross  wrapped  in  his 
blankets,  ascended  the  Horn,  bent  on  a  scouting 
expedition. 

"  I'm  going  to  make  sure  the  McKenzies  are 
far  enough  away  so  I  can  fire  up  and  get  some 
thing  hot  inside  of  us,"  he  explained.  "  There's  a 
round-up  of  shivers  chasin'  each  other  all  over  my 
back  now.  A  little  hot  coffee  would  seem  good 
and  healthy  to  me  !  " 

As  soon  as  the  younger  boy  had  left,  Ross  fell 
asleep.  He  was  awakened  at  the  close  of  an  hour 
by  the  sound  of  voices.  Springing  out  of  the  bunk 
he  dressed  hastily,  and,  running  out  on  the  rock 
shelf,  looked  below  on  a  sight  which  gladdened 
his  eyes.  On  the  valley  trail  under  the  shelf 
stood  four  horsemen.  Lucky  and  Dad,  the  former 
with  his  rifle  across  the  pommel  of  his  saddle, 
were  headed  up  the  valley  from  the  distant  shack 
of  old  man  Clark.  Nicholas,  gesticulating  fran 
tically,  and  talking  loudly,  stood  and  hopped 
about  excitedly  on  the  flank  of  an  exceedingly 
leg-weary  Spot.  He  had  found  the  pony  hobbled 
the  other  side  of  the  Horn.  The  fourth  member 
of  the  group,  rolling  about  in  his  saddle  in  an 
ecstasy  of  enjoyment,  was  Tod.  The  Monkey  was 
setting  forth  vividly  the  boys'  late  adventures. 

394 


GOLD    HUNTER 

"  Hey  !  "  yelled  Ross.  "  Cut  that  out  until  you 
get  up  here  !  " 

Four  faces  turned  up  to  meet  the  voice.  Then 
the  Monkey  agilely  inverted  himself  and  gave  the 
first  public  exhibition  of  a  trick  which  he  had 
long  and  patiently  practiced  in  secret :  he  stood 
on  his  head  on  Spot's  flank,  and,  bending  his 
knees,  dropped  his  feet  back  until  he  could  grasp 
his  toes  in  both  hands,  maintaining  his  balance 
skilfully.  Having  thus  celebrated  the  Victory  of 
the  Horn,  he  led  a  jubilant  procession  up  the  trail 
and  into  the  cabin  of  the  handy  echo. 

"  Trig's  horse  put  its  nose  in  the  Pass  about  as 
soon  as  you  boys  had  left,"  Tod  explained  to  Ross, 
"  and  I  waited  only  long  enough  for  it  to  eat  and 
rest  up  a  bit  before  hiking  after  you  hotfooted. 
I  wanted  to  see  what  was  going  on  over  here,  and 
the  Monkey  tells  me,"  with  a  broad  grin,  "  that 
the  fastest  things  going  are  the  McKenzies  escapin' 
the  ha'nt !  And  say,  Doc,  Daisy  Breitmann  stopped 
to  see  Hans." 

Here  Tod's  speech  was  lost  as  he  followed  the 
others  into  the  cavern,  where  pandemonium  pres 
ently  reigned  as  six  voices  burst  into  speech  beside 
the  ore,  and  amid  the  echoes.  The  Toddler  was 
the  first  to  beat  a  retreat  into  the  shack.  He  was 
pressing  both  hands  over  his  ears.  "  I  don't  sup 
pose  I'll  ever  meet  up  with  another  pair  of  good 

395 


ROSS    GRANT 

ear  drums,"  he  cried,  "  and  I  ain't  going  to  let  that 
ha'nt  bust  these  I  " 

The  other  explorers  soon  joined  him,  glad  to  es 
cape  from  the  darkness,  dampness  and  confusion 
of  the  cave.  Every  one  was  talking,  except  the 
Monkey,  who  fell  at  once  on  the  supplies  with  a 
purposeful  air  while  Lucky  built  a  fire. 

Then  it  was  that  Ross  recalled  Tod's  reference  to 
Daisy's  call,  and  asked  for  an  explanation. 

"  Daisy  ?  "  laughed  Tod.  "  Oh,  yes,  I  saw  Daisy. 
He's  a  guileless  old  boy  and  still  thinks  Sandy  is 
an  open-handed  charitable  institute !  What  d'ye 
think  Sandy's  last  pious  act  was?  Why,  he  sent 
that  letter  back  by  Breitmann  and  told  him  to 
give  it  to  Hans,  and  tell  'im  that  Sandy  McKen- 
zie  was  the  only  friend  he  had  in  the  mountains, 
and  that  he  was  going  to  rescue  as  much  of  the 
gold  from  Lucky  here  as  he  was  able  and  put  it 
into  a  new  cache  against  the  time  when  Hans 
should  get  able  to  attend  to  it !  At  that  time, 
Sandy  allowed,  he'd  come  around  Hans'  way  and 
lead  him  to  the  cache  like  Mary's  little  lamb ! " 

"  Did  Daisy  read  the  letter  to  you  ?  "  asked  Nick 
eagerly. 

"  Yep — and,  Dad,  by  the  way,  the  last  of  the 
letter  said  that  Hans  was  to  hand  over  to  you  the 
first  thousand  he  got  out  of  the  ore." 

Dad's  face  lighted.  "  I  ain't  so  keen  about  the 

396 


GOLD    HUNTER 

plunks  as  I  am  about  Fred's  handin'  me  out  a 
square  deal/'  he  rejoined  quietly. 

"  And  was  anything  said  in  the  letter  about  the 
fine  bit  of  ore  in  the  box  ?  "  asked  Lucky. 

"  Huh-uh,  that  was  all  explained,  so  you  see 
Sandy  knew  what  he  was  about  when  he  hiked 
along  on  foot  with  them  bags." 

Lucky,  giving  the  supplies  over  into  the  Mon 
key's  competent  hands,  sat  down  in  his  bunk,  and 
spoke  to  Dad  meditatively  : 

"  Wall,  all  said  and  done,  Hans  'ull  have  a  good 
stake  left  after  payin'  ye,  Dad  ;  I'm  glad  of  that. 
Three  'r  four  thousand  'ull  help  out,  and,  from 
what  Fred  said  I  take  it  Hans  wants  t'  own  a  brass 
band  'r  somethin'  like  that.  Fred  said  he  wants 
t'  be  a  musical  director,  whatever  that  may  be." 

Tod  shook  his  head  gravely.  "  Maybe  he  can 
manage  a  brass  band,  but  some  one  would  have  to 
stand  by  to  manage  the  manager  !  Think  of  that 
full-sized  Dutch  baby  startin'  out  alone  with  one 
packhorse  to  manage  a  ton  of  ore  a  hundred  miles 
from  nowhere  !  We've  got  to  round  things  up  for 
him  ourselves,  that's  all !  " 

Lucky  opened  and  closed  his  hands,  regarding 
them  abstractedly.  "  I'll  hike  down  to  the  valley 
and  fetch  back  Daisy  and  the  packhosses,"  he  said 
slowly,  "  and  we'll  get  this  stuff  and  Hans  down 
as  fur  as  Cody  as  soon  as  he  is  fitten  to  go.  There 

397 


GOLD    HUNTER 

he  can  git  some  of  his  own  folks  t'  look  out  fer 
him." 

"  Bat,  Lucky,"  Tod  remonstrated,  "  there's  your 
tunnel.  It's  up  to  you  to  peg  away  at  your  work 
from  now  on." 

Here  Ross  stepped  forward.  He  spoke  halt 
ingly,  half  ashamed  to  offer  his  services  in  the 
presence  of  so  many  witnesses. 

"  There's  no  reason  why  I  should  go  back  to 
Pennsylvania  before  September,"  he  began.  "  I'll 
write  to  my  people  not  to  look  for  me,  and  then — 
111  help  you  out  in  your  tunnel — if  you'll  let  me." 

Lucky  made  no  reply  in  words,  but  into  his 
deep-set  eyes  flashed  such  an  expression  of  affection 
and  gratitude  that  Ross's  face  flushed,  and  the 
others  looked  silently  away. 

But  the  irrepressible  Monkey  relieved  the  situa 
tion  by  chanting  as  he  beat  the  slapjack  batter : 
"  Where  Doc  goes  to  work  I'll  go  to  visit ! " 


The  Stories  in  this  Series  are  : 
ROSS  GRANT,  TENDERFOOT 


ROSS  GRANT,  GOLD  HUNTER 


398 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


BOQDSME327 


